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yndrgrl · 1 year ago

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katsuki bakugo has a glow up during summer break, & now he has a lot of girls' attention

fluff. ooc! bakugo. bits of jealousy. sfw. x reader. acquaintances to lovers. long ass fic.

a/n: the horny content will continue after this message :) also i kinda got nerdy so just ignore my rambles about fighting haha

the whispers & murmurs buzzed like bugs throughout the halls of u.a. you couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard lower classmen gush about how good katsuki looks, how he definitely had a summer glow up.

it's not that he was bad looking before, that's just not the case. so, when you heard that he somehow got hotter over the span of a few months, you grew curious.

your best friend, ochaco, began to rave about him. "no, you don't understand, y/n. have you seen him yet?"

"i haven't yet, but it doesn't matter! he's still rude as hell!" you told her. "besides, aren't you still going after midoriya?"

"yeah, but i can still appreciate attractive people," she retorted, shoving the rest of her her breakfast-on-the-go in her mouth. you fished your phone out of your school cardigan pocket to change your music when, like a kdrama (or a shitty fanfic), you ran into something-- no, someone.

speak of the devil. "oi! watch it!" the abrasive blonde spun around & met your eyes. his harden glare soften oh so subtly.

"i'm sorry," you quaintly apologized. it's the first day & the first hour of the next 180 days, & you're not going to get in a fight.

"it's whatever, just make sure where you're going next time," katsuki responded. his tone was still harsh, yet what he said was almost nice.

he walked off into the both of yours' classroom, leaving you & ochaco stunned. you both stared at each other, mouths agape. "what just happened?" she finally spat out.

"i have no idea."

"WAS HE JUST NICE?"

a week later, you sat in class, listening to mr. aizawa drone on about something so utterly boring, you'd rather stick your head in a toilet & flush it yourself. you let your eyes wander around the class. for the most part, everyone stayed the same.

then, your eyes landed on katsuki, who was seated by the window. now that you had time to think about it, he did change. his jawline was a tad sharper, his hair appeared more soft, & his shirt clung onto every inch of his upper body. he definitely bulked up during the summer.

his skin is clear, he must've also began caring for a sense of style because his fingers displayed grunge rings, & his eyes were somehow a darker, more alluring shade of crimson. wait, his eyes... were staring at you.

no, he was staring at you staring at him.

god, you felt like a creep. you were expecting him to yell at you, scowl through gritted teeth, but no. he didn't do any of that. he shot you a smirk, then went back to jotting notes.

confusion settled in after embarrassment. you couldn't help that a light pink dusted your cheeks. it wasn't noticeable though, thank goodness.

the subtle, weird antics didn't stop. maybe he's just playing with me or something, you wondered. or maybe i'm looking too much into thinks.

when passing him in the halls, he'd acknowledge you by giving you a small nod-- even if his friends were talking his ears off. he'd hold the doors open for you & only you, but would walk away quickly. he was treating you differently then he treats everyone else, & you don't know why.

"bakugo~" a girl you barely recognized greeted. "you look handsome today!"

he & his friends sat on the other side of your friends' long table. you were the closest to his squad, only three seats away from them. they could hear your conversations, but that means you could hear theirs.

"shut it, & eat your food," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. with his chopsticks, he picked at his bento box.

"ooo~ what did you pack?" she pressed as she inched closer to him. "aww, did your mom make that?"

"no, i did," he raised his voice. she wouldn't take the hint though.

she merely giggled, asking, "could you feed it to me? i wanna try some~" she crossed her arms under her breasts to intensify her cleavage. she was picture perfect, to say the least. any other guy would be drooling at the sight of her.

not bakugo though. he was goal-oriented, focused on the future, & not into dating from what you gathered. a small part of you is bummed out that he isn't interested in romance. he was practically everything you wanted in a guy after all-- just minus the whole "jerk" part.

"what are you looking at, bakugo?" you didn't realize you were staring -once again- until the girl whipped her head around & caught your gaze. her cattish smile dropped into a thin line. "quit staring, idiot-"

"don't call her that, bitch."

both yours & her eyes widened at the quickness & unexpected defensiveness spewed by bakugo. he stuck some of his egg omelette in his mouth, unbothered.

"wh-what? i don't think i heard you, bakugo."

he swallowed his food, ran his tongue across his top teeth, and started to pick up more food with his chopsticks, reiterating, "don't talk to y/n like that, got it?" he put the food in his mouth.

she scoffed, humiliated. "i have to leave," she said, voice dropping at least an octave. your eyes trailed her as she sat with her friends, & they immediately began gossiping. how could you tell? the way they all looked back at you with a nasty expression on their faces.

you returned your attention back to bakugo, who had both your friends & his friends floored with what just happened. "thanks for that," you started. "you really didn't have to do that."

"i know i didn't, but someone had to shut her up."

you replied, "i mean, i'm sure there was a nicer way."

"i tried," he told you with that small smirk on his face again. "she didn't get the hint, i have to be more obvious."

"yeah, in more ways than one," a friend on his side, sero, snickered.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" classic katsuki, reverting back to yelling.

ever since that happened, your friends haven't stopped talking about it since. "guys, c'mon. it's almost been a week," you groaned. you were all getting ready in the school locker room to do hand-to-hand, no quirk combat with a celebrated instructor.

"i think bakugo likes you~" ochaco teased in a sing-songy voice.

you tried to reason, "maybe he was just annoyed with her, & it has nothing to do with me."

"i don't know, y/n," momo laughed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "he seemed pretty into you."

"no way, not bakugo-"

"well, why not bakugo?" mina, who just so happened to be good friends with said man, asked while she slipped on her shoes.

"because we all know what he's like. he doesn't really scream the dating type, you know?" you grabbed a water bottle & locked your back into your locker.

mina shrugged, & ochaco said, "you said one time that bakugo was the closest to your type... do you like him?"

"WHAT?"

the rest of the conversation was cut short when tsuyu pointed out they should be in the training room by now, causing all the girls to scramble out of the locker room.

the instructor, once the bell rang, introduced himself. he was a nice man seemingly. he was a well-seasoned martial artist who knew what he was talking about.

after his brief speech, he had his assistant -a younger, more egotistical guy- be his dummy when explaining a move. "does anyone have any questions?" he asked. no one answered. "cool, find a partner, & try it out."

everyone scurried to find their partners. pair by pair, no one chose you... all except-

"hey you, be my partner," bakugo practically demanded.

"me?"

"no, the wall behind you. yes, you, y/n," he joked, the same smirk only you get to see on his face. this time, however, it was a full-blown smirk.

"are you sure?"

"yeah," he scoffed, dragging you by the arm to an empty space. he studied how your face contorted from surprise to concern. "listen, if you think you're gonna drag me down or whatever, you're not-"

"no, it's not that," you interrupted. you felt your pride inflate slightly.

"then what is it?"

"i just don't want to hurt you."

it was his turn to be shocked. what did you mean by that?

the first hour went by, techniques were taught, & moves were learned. however, now it was the time that really put things to the test: open spar. it was at this time in training when things got heated. everyone in the room gives it their all no matter what, so the atmosphere turns into something animalistic, yet so empowering.

but before that, is a small water break. speaking of water, where did you leave yours? you swear you brought it in. bakugo must've seen how confused you appeared when he offered (or told you), "here, take some of mine."

too thirsty to even care the open-mouthed expressions from your peers, you took the bottle from his outstretched hand. "thank you!" you cheered, taking a few sips then handing it back to him.

"was that even enough? you barely drank anything," he jested. it sounded like he was teasing you, but, again, he said something like he cared about your well-being.

"yeah, i'll be fine. the worst that can happen is i'll faint."

"you better not. i need a good training partner."

"oh whatever, you're getting a good training partner."

suddenly, the instructor boomed, "water break is over! get back with your partner for sparring!"

once everyone huddled back with their partners & got situated, the instructor explained briefly that everyone will be grappling ("no striking" he repeated ten times as well) five minute rounds, switch partners, another five minute round, & so on so forth. "alright got it?"

"yes sir!"

"good," he nodded to his assistant, who got the stop watch ready, "3, 2, 1, go!"

yoy & katsuki go into your stances. one thing about being shorter than him is that, in the game of wrestling, you're at in advantage at first. "don't go easy on me," you told him, it was meant as a warning

"i was just about to tell you i wasn't." the moment he finished, he took a double-leg shot. it was executed near flawless-- emphasis on the near.

you sprawled your legs back, collapsing your body on top of his. you drove your shoulder into his neck, which resulted in bakugo's face smushed against the mat. he might be strong, but no one's neck is that strong to hold up an entire person. you heard him audibly groan "fuck!"

you caught his arm & his head with one of yours. the two of you were on your knees, but your goal was to get him flat, stomach down. with his trapped arm & leg, you pulled him out from under you & quickly sped towards his back. you mounted him, keeping yourself close to his. you gazed up at your instructor, who gave you a knowing nod of approval.

like a good fighter, katsuki sprung his head up. he missed your nose, instead having his skull collide with your cheek. it hurt, but you had to keep going. "since when did you learn how to wrestle?"

"what do you mean?" you thought everyone knew. you swore that you've mentioned it in front of the class.

"you're fucking good, you know that?" he praised as he fought of your hands.

"you're not too bad yourself," you told him before you crossbody locked him.

"no, i'm being serious. you're too damn good. you're gonna be my partner every time we grapple."

you & bakugo, now you call him katsuki, have only grown closer since then. he would take time out of his study session to ensure you understood the material. before he could finish, the library assistant -a girl around your age- would ask if he needed help with anything, shy blush on her face.

other times he'd walk with you back to your dorms when a group of girls would ask for his number.

it was a constant occurrence; girls notice him, ask for something, then ultimately get rejected. it wasn't in a nice way either. he always degraded & humiliated them, but they'd let him because of how handsome he was.

it was a saturday afternoon where you & katsuki got food from a nearby convenience store & sat in the park. no scheduled training or overwhelming amounts of homework. he insisted on paying for you, & who are you to reject free food?

"okay, but i really have to ask," you started, eating your food, "why aren't you dating anyone?"

"i don't know," he simply put it, downing a bottle of a protein drink.

"you do know, you're just not telling me." you actually didn't know if that was true, you were just bluffing.

"fine, i'm just waiting for a some girl to realize i like her," he admitted so nonchalantly, as if he didn't drop a mind bomb.

your mood dampened. he was your dream guy, the more you hung out with him. you might have developed a crush on him, yet you didn't even realize he liked anyone else.

"no way! who?" you had to sound enthused or he would know something was up.

"no one, forget i said anything," he cleared.

"i want to know~ i can help find out her favorite flowers or something so you can confess!"

"really?" he asked, brow quirked. you nodded your head.

"tch, alright. what's your favorite flower?"

that didn't make any sense. "what?"

"you said that you're gonna help me confess, so what's your favorite flower?"

"katsuki, i don't think she has the same favorite flower than me."

"oh my god, you're so fuckin' dense," he muttered under his breath. "i want to know your favorite flower, y/n, so i can confess." his cheeks reddened as he gave you intense stare, studying your expression. it was still confused.

"confess to who-" he cut you off by putting his hand behind your head & pulling you into a kiss. it was gentle, passionate, & truly shocking to you.

"confess to you, idiot," he panted when the two of you pulled away. "i'm already here," he said with a fuck-it attitude.

"y/n, i've liked you for a long time, a really long time. i thought i made it obvious but you never really caught on cuz you're a dumbass or something."

you laughed, & he smiled at you.

he continued, "so then shitty hair told me i had to make it even more obvious, so that's what i've been doing this entire year."

"but all those girls-"

"yeah well i didn't know i was getting a fan club this year. honestly, they don't fuckin' matter though. what matters is you & i," he told you, his face still so close to yours. "so tell me, if you feel the same."

"i-i do," you stuttered out. in your defense, you were not used to such close proximity to anyone, let alone a sculpture chiseled by ancient greeks themselves.

"say it again," he said, voice deep & eyes half lidded. "i need to hear it again."

"i do, katsuki," you repeated per his request. "i really, really like you."

he pulled you into another kiss, & you both felt each other smile. it felt right.

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cdragons · 8 months ago

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 4

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter. Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. ...Well, maybe you also hated Annabel Williams as much - but you'd be damned before you let a drunk girl out in the hallway without helping her.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix doesn't make an appearance (but still mentioned), Reader is a girl's girl, Annabel has an epiphany, Michael hates everyone BUT Reader, Farleigh is Farleigh, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic. Also Oliver is barely in this chapter, but who cares about that asshat?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the prolonged hiatus! It was not intentional! My classes have upped the ante in how much HW they gave me, and I got distracted by reading my old GOT fanfics and got ideas for it. BUT - thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

You were caught in a bit of a pickle – granted, it was a voluntary pickle, but a pickle nonetheless.

…Okay, so quick recap of the events that transpired this week:

Regularly-scheduled Annabel tormenting you

Got sexually-harassed by Catton

Had a self-pity session at Bowin

Got found by Mikey Gravy

Olly, the psychotic backstabber/bootlicker, tried to pimp you out to Felix Catton.

You almost committed aggravated homicide of said pimp before Michael dragged you away.

You went to the movies to drool over Johnny Depp.

You and Michael decided you would crash in his dorm room for the night…leading to your current predicament.

Right now, you were dragging an unconscious Annabel, who was drunk off her ass, with one arm flung over your shoulder as you tried to make get any information of where her dorm was out of her. It was a sad picture – mascara running down her cheeks, vomit from her mouth, and lipstick messily smeared across her face. The smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze was almost enough to make you want to drop her on the ground and leave her there if you hadn’t pitied her so much.

When you realized that you weren’t going to get anything out of her that didn’t involve projectile vomiting, you just decided to bring her to rest up in your dorm.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping her,” Michael grunted.

Oh, yeah…and Michael was helping you, too.

“Because girl code, Gavey–” you grunted, lifting Annabel’s arm higher when you felt her slipping “–no man left behind – or well, no woman left behind in this case.”

“That’s the Geneva Code.”

“Same difference,” you groaned out. Fuck, how was this girl so heavy?

Michael’s face was getting flushed from the sweat running down his forehead. “So, girl code dictates that you have to help the bitch who’s been making your term hell?”

“Girl Code,” you huffed, “wait, hang on - she’s slipping - okay, there we go. ‘Girl Code’ is more of an honor code expected to be followed by all sisters on their journey to womanhood. And one of the most sacred rules in that honor system is that – fuck, she’s heavy – that if you see a sister drunk and unconscious, you make sure she gets home safe.”

“Or your matchbox dorm room, in this circumstance,” your friend grumbled.

You tiredly nodded. “Exactly! Besides, regardless of how heinous she is, it’s the right thing to do.”

“(Y/N), you realize she won’t be getting hypothermia, right?” Michael frustratingly groaned. “It’s late spring.”

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who won’t take advantage of her in her current state. They’d say, ‘Oh, she was asking for it,’ or ‘she’s just imagining things, do you remember how hammered she was?’ And then it’ll be their word against hers.”

You went silent for a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to her. No one should have that happen to them – girl or guy, bully or friend.”

“Well, in any case,” Michael started as the two of you finally arrived at the beginning of your dormitory. “It’s lucky that your dorm is so close to mine. Are you sure you want her in there? There’s still the chance she’ll vomit all over your carpet if she misses the bucket or even your covers.”

You opened the door with your ID card. “I’ll just have to take that chance, I guess. Look, I’ll try to wake her up long enough to see if she remembers any of her friend’s numbers. If any of them pick up, I’ll tell them to pick her up.”

Michael looked at you with heavy doubt in his eyes. “And if they don’t? Pick up, I mean?”

“Then I guess we’ll be having a sleepover,” you sighed as you reached your room at the end of the hallway. “And then we’ll never have to see each other ever again when morning comes.”

Michael loudly snorted while you clumsily reached into your back pocket for your keys. “Don’t jinx yourself. With your bleeding heart, you’ll probably end up donating your liver to her if she doesn’t die of alcohol poisoning first.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come one. Have a bit more faith in me – SHIT!” you exclaimed after you dropped your keys.

You quickly scrambled to the floor while Michael guffawed at your misfortune. You shot a quick glare at him to get him to shut up. The bespectacled bastard didn’t stop laughing until…like, three minutes passed. In response, you dropped Annabel’s arm from your shoulder to focus on finding your room key. You chuckled to yourself when you heard Michael curse to himself as he tried to balance the drunk girl’s weight without getting her too close to him. When you finally found it, you inserted it into the lock. You sighed in relief when the door opened. You were even more relieved that your roommate had decided to spend the night at her girlfriend’s dorm. You really didn’t want to have to explain to her why you were voluntarily helping the vile witch bitch who was actively trying to make your college years hell. Meanwhile, Michael grimaced and groaned as he held Annabel away from his body at arm’s length.

“Is sluttiness contagious through touch?” he asked.

“Unless pre-Sith Anakin suddenly pops into this hallway, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that,” you snorted as you opened the door to let Michael drag the unconscious girl into the room.

Michael scoffed at your choice of Star Wars beefcake. “Bitch, please. Young Obi-Wan Kenobi was far superior.”

He went to the center of the room and released Annabel from his grip to let her unceremoniously fall on the floor, and her body made a soft ‘thump.’ You wrinkled your nose and grimaced at the pathetic nature of tonight. She looked less like the glamorous Oxford party ‘IT’ girl and more like one of those sad groupies who OD’d in their favorite rockstar’s pool from a house party. You didn’t know what the hell her story of tonight was – but it still didn’t mean she deserved to be left alone, slumped against a wall in a dirty hallway with vomit all over her.

You turned to Michael. “Okay! Off you trot!”

Your favorite bespectacled blonde nerd gave you a look of complete bewilderment.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Not even a thank you? I literally dragged her body here from my dormitory and risked being the first victim of a new STD contracted through skin contact.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics – if he weren’t such a numbers genius, he would have been the perfect theater kid.

“Don’t be such an incel,” you admonished. “It’s not a good look on you. And I carried more of her body weight than you, dumbass. If I left it up to you, we’d never get anywhere with your twiggy arms.”

You poked his arms in emphasis and snickered when he pouted. He crossed his arms and was about to leave when you pounced on him. A bit of Annabel’s “Britney Spears Fantasy” spray perfume soaked into his shirt, but other than that, he still smelled like himself. The scent of fresh laundry, freshly mowed grass, and spearmint toothpaste made you feel safe. His scent, combined with his body heat, enveloped you in comfort.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.”

Gavey wrapped his arms around you as he rested his chin on your head. He usually hated contact with anybody save his family, but you were always the exception. Michael should probably have warned you that the rotten and acidic odor from Annabel’s puke would ruin your shirt, but he just let himself replace her cheap perfume with your fragrance. The scent of your favorite honey and jasmine conditioner in your hair mostly covered the faint traces of turpentine and linseed oil on your skin.

“Of course I did,” he softly replied. “With your shit sense of direction, you would have ended up in the bottom of the ditch.”

You gasped and lightly pushed him away. “Uhhh, way to ruin the moment!”

Michael snickered at the way your jaw had dropped in shock and betrayal. You then resorted to mockingly punching him in the stomach as he did nothing to stop you. He couldn’t help but look at you in total and utter fondness as he continued to ‘beat him up.’

But in all honesty, Michael didn’t mind helping you. He loved it. He’d rather get Crucio-ed than say it, but you were his favorite person in the whole world. In a desert of fakes and masks of insincerity, you were like gentle rain with your genuine vibrance and rare honesty. He loved how endlessly kind and empathetic you were to others. He just hated it when you granted acts of kindness to the plebes unworthy of you. You’d give the benefit of the doubt to the worst of the worst on campus – Annabel being a case in point.

Remembering the drunk elephant in the room, Michael grabbed your fists and stared at you thoughtfully.

“Seriously, though,” he began, “why are you helping her? I know you told me about ‘girl code’ and all that. But is that seriously it?”

You thumped your head against his chest. “Look, I get it. Annabel is a horrible person, and with how awful she treated me – she doesn’t deserve my kindness, my help, or my pity. But that doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do. And if not us, who knows who would have picked her up? If another guy other than you ‘helped’ her…you do the math.”

A groggy voice broke the two of you apart. “Are you two going to shag? Because I can leave.”

You and Michael jumped apart as you watched Annabel lift herself from the floor and stagger to her feet. Her legs wobbled briefly before giving out, and then she fell to the floor. You turned to Michael and gave him one final hug before seeing him out. He looked disgusted at the girl sitting on the cheap carpet before turning to you, concerned. Mikey asked if you were confident you didn’t need him here to help you.

“I’ll take it from here,” you reassured him. You flexed your arm – 80s jock bully style. “I’m a tough girl. I carry my canvases and textbooks and everything, after all.”

“Okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “But if you end up putting her down, give me a call, and I’ll help you bury the body.”

“Um,” interjected Annabel, “you know I’m right here, you arse.”

“Hey,” you admonished, “he did help carry you here. He could have left you in that hallway alone.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Probably did it so he could cop a feel, the slimy wanker.”

“Please,” Michael sneered, “as if I’d ever willingly touch someone with a higher body count than Dahmer and Bundy combined. I’m only here because I wanted to help (Y/N) – she’s the one who was worried about your sad self.”

Ugh, this was going to be a long night. You turned to Michael with apologetic eyes and reassured him that he wasn’t a wanker. You promised you’d make it up to him by buying all the Crunchie bars he wanted. Mikey’s eyes softened at your sincerity as he began to walk down the corridor to make the trek to his dorm.

You softly closed your door so as not to cause any further disturbance. When you turned around, you were startled by the dead stare Annabel was giving you. You looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You cleared your throat to try and break the tension.

“Um, soooo…I’m glad you’re awake. You were sitting so still in that hall, I was worried you OD’d,” you nervously joked. But all she did was continue to stare at you. “So, do you have your phone with you? I figured it would be best if you called one of your friends. I’m sure they’re really worried about you. I know I’d be going out of my mind if one of my friends–”

“What kind of fucking game are you playing here?” she snarled. Her large, doe-brown eyes narrowed in anger as you stopped talking.

“Uhhh,” your mind was coming out blank. “Wait, I don’t – I don’t know what you mean?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t play stupid. Why’d you help me? Did you want to take pictures of me drunk and unconscious?”

Your jaw fucking dropped. “What?! NO! I just–”

“I’m sure that would’ve made some fucking good blackmail material,” ignoring you and continuing, “I can see it: ‘Annabel Williams drunk in the hall after trying to shag fucking sad Ollie.’ You’re so obvious.”

You tried to explain yourself. “Okay, look- I think there’s a big misunderstanding here–”

“Or maybe you want to show the pictures to Felix, not that he’d care or anything. You got him all wrapped up in your little Yankee finger, you know that? It’s so pathetic and sick – it makes me want to–”

“HEY!” you yelled – finally making her just shut UP. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. “Look, Michael and I were walking to his dorm when we saw you were sitting in the hallway. I tried to ask you if you had your phone on you and if you wanted me to call anyone, but you were out cold. And I couldn’t just leave you there, okay? That’s dangerous! And I didn’t know where you lived – you know, considering that you hate me–” you cut off your rambling with a deep breath “–so he and I dragged you to my dorm.”

The silence that followed was so stifling you wanted to open a window. Maybe if you let some fresh air in, it might calm the girl down. It would also help diffuse some of the puke odor stinking up your room.

“…Anyway, if you don’t have your phone on you right now, I can always call them myself. Do you remember their numbers? I know you and India are close. Do you think she’s available right now?”

More silence.

You began fidgeting. “I mean, you can stay over if no one is available? I don’t mind since my roommate is sleeping over–”

Annabel interrupted you again. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to help me? For what? For the sake of being the goody-two-shoes kiss-ass, you’ve always been? Did you want me to bow and worship you?”

“Annabel,” you groaned, “it’s been a really long night, okay? And I don’t feel like arguing when you aren’t sober and in your right mind.”

“Oh yeah,” she bitterly laughed. “Be a pushover, and get everyone to love you. Tell everyone how much of a ‘heinous’ bitch I am. Play the victim – that’s all you’ll ever be. Just go back with your pathetic little nerd friend and be invisible and boring like the goody-goody who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

The quiet in the room was surprisingly loud. Shock and disbelief morphed into fury as your fists clenched so hard that your nails left red welts on your skin. Your body trembled in anger as your tongue felt too heavy to express everything you wanted to say.

‘Pushover’ she called you? ‘Play the victim,’ she said?

Who the hell was she to have any right to judge you? Did she have any idea what you’ve sacrificed? How much have you suffered and left behind? Could she even have the slightest decency to understand what you’ve been through? Of what she put you through?

…You know what? …Fuck her. Fuck Annabel Williams and all of Oxford’s elite. They were proof that Michael was right – that doing the right thing meant nothing to them.

Your voice was cold, and your eyes were numb. “…I’m going to take a shower,” you grab a towel and your shower buddy. “I want you to get the hell out of my dorm by the time I get back. Call your friend or don’t? Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

You slammed the door on your way out.

“Finally,” Annabel thought with some relief, “she’s gone.”

When you left, the room felt ten degrees colder the way the door slammed, and Annabel felt goosebumps form on her arm. This was the worst night of her life. She had never felt so humiliated.

Her mummy told her she was just born blessed because God knew she was exceptional, and she always believed that to be true. For her entire life, she was the girl every boy wanted to bed and the girl every girl wanted to be. She never had to fight for anyone’s attention. Her parents gladly bought her the latest versions of top-of-the-line technology. Her closet here and at her parent’s townhouse in Kensington was filled with designer-brand exclusives and limited-editions. She had everything.

For people like her, life was supposed to be easy. She was born at the top, so she would be there till the day she died.

So why was she losing to you?

When she came to Oxford, she figured it would be as easy as most of her life. She’d spend her time partying and networking with the right people. If she had to blackmail a nerd to take her classes or blow a teacher to give her an “A”? Who would say otherwise?

But then she met Felix Catton and finally felt she had met her match. Finally, there was someone who checked all the boxes: rich, tall, handsome, and fun. That part made Felix the golden sheep who stood above the rest of the flock – he was fun. Not only did he know how to have a good time, he knew how to properly fuck a girl, too.

She was so drunk off the taste of his lips and the feel of him around her – so much so that she broke her golden rule.

“Never fall first.”

Annabel felt herself falling hard for Felix Catton. She thought they were exclusive. He was her boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend. But then…he became distant. He stopped calling he and ignored her when they returned to campus after the break. But then he and she left the bar at Kings’ Crossing, and she was so happy! She wanted to cry when he kissed her hard and ripped her 100 quid top in half.

It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wet when he entered her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait for her to adjust when he started to thrust. It didn’t matter when she tried to moan his name; he would cover her mouth with his giant hand to shut her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t close to finishing when he came inside her. It didn’t matter when her windpipes were almost crushed when he fell on top of her after finishing.

They were together. He chose her! Annabel and Felix – Mrs. Felix Catton, she could see it now. They’d have a wedding in his house at Saltburn. She would have to meet his parents, but she wasn’t worried – all her flings’ parents loved her! They would be together forever, and nothing would ever–

“(Y/N),” Felix whispered above her – and Annabel’s world completely fell apart.

She immediately shoved his body off hers and hurriedly dressed before getting the hell out of his room. Annabel didn’t bother putting on her shoes before running with tears down her face to her dorm. And when she returned to her single, she flung herself to her bed and cried to sleep. She didn’t bother attending class that week – not when her heart broke.

Felix had been thinking about you – you. He called out your name after finishing. Was he imagining your naked body when hers was under him? Had he been imagining you every time he fucked her?

Annabel smelled Felix’s aftershave and wanted to rip the skin off her body. God, she never felt more like a whore in her entire life.

“God,” she thought, “I was so pathetic! How could I be so stupid to fall for Felix Catton? Why did I trick myself into hoping that we would be together?”

Felix wanted a good girl—like you—the American scholarship student who wanted to paint pretty pictures and was at the top of her classes. The lovely New Yorker who hung around losers and still held your head up high despite every professor thinking you were in over your head to come here. Some pushover bitch who was so pathetic and actually–

The door slammed open again, and Annabel’s pretty sure she’d scream if she weren’t so fucking tired. You came storming in with your towel and shower caddy in your hands, and your eyes were a raging storm while your lips were pursed like you had sucked a lemon. Your nostrils are flaring as you angrily breathe through your nose. Annabel was about to open her mouth, but you menacingly pointed at her with your pointer finger. It felt like forever until you finally opened your mouth.

“Look! We don’t have to be friends and I don’t expect us to be friends – but you know what? YES, I WOULD LIKE A THANK YOU! I dragged your unconscious ass across campus, and you REEKED of vomit and bad perfume! And not to body shame, but you are WAY TOO SKINNY to be healthy to be as heavy as you were when I carried you!”

“Excuse me?!” Annabel sputtered. “Who the fuck–”

“Oh! I’m not done!” you shouted. “I don’t know if you being horrible and a bitch is supposed to be some power trip or some shit, but it’s so cliché! Are we in Mean Girls? Are you Regina George? No, am I Janice from Lebanon? NO! And on that – I have a few bones to pick with you…MISSY!

I–” You pointed to yourself “–am NOT a pushover, okay? I fucking beat your stupid manwhore boy toy like it was goddamn ‘Whack o’ Mole’ for ruining my painting! Pushovers don’t do that! FURTHERMORE – me calling you a ‘horrible person’ or ‘heinous bitch’ isn’t me ‘playing the victim’! You HAVE been a HORRIBLE person to me, alright? And what’s worse – I don’t have the slightest idea why! Was it something I said to you last term? Or were you born a spoilt princess who never had to work for anything in her life because mommy and daddy will always give you everything you want so you could forget that they would probably instead work than deal with their brat? Seriously – what is it? Because you’re driving me CRAZY!”

When you were done, Annabel sat on the floor, completely silent, and stared at you unblinkingly. She hadn’t expected you to come back so quickly – let alone to scream at her. She stared at your huffing and shallow breathing in awe and slight amazement. Your hair looked frazzled from your outburst, and your (e/c) eyes were bright with wild impulse.

Annabel felt her bottom lip quiver and stared at an ugly stain on the carpet. She didn’t want to show any more of herself than she had already. But what the hell? You already saw more of her than most of her so-called ‘friends.’ What was a little more? If she had to show more of the ugliest parts of herself, why not show it to someone she already hated?

Before she could stop herself, Annabel felt her shoulders sag and shake as sobs tore through her petite frame. Tears and snot were running down her face as she furiously tried to wipe them away – if nothing but to try and save some shred of dignity. Annabel was crying so much that she didn’t see the surprised look on your face morph to slight guilt since you thought you may gone too far with your rant. You reached out to tap her shoulder when you heard her speak.

“Why doesn’t he want me?” she sobbed. “What do I have to do to get him to love me?”

If you were taken aback by her crying, you were completely caught off-guard by her questions. You walked over to your desk and grabbed a box of tissues before crouching on the ground. You handed her a few tissues from the box and waved to her face to present them. Annabel noticed how you tried hard not to see how much her hand trembled when she reached forward to grab the tissues from you.

“Who?” you softly asked her. “Are you talking about Felix?”

Annabel blew her nose into the tissue hard. “Who else?! I mean…look at me! Everyone wants me! Everyone – boys, girls, teachers! Do you know how many of my past flings gladly emptied their pockets so I might wank them? But he wants you! What do you have that I don’t?”

Concern and pity shifted to confusion before realization kicked in, and you were so done with this conversation already. Maybe you were a slightly horrible person for this, but you felt so disappointed when Annabel told you that her entire drama with you had been over Felix Catton.

“…That’s why you’ve been tormenting me this entire term so far?” you flatly asked. “Because of Felix Catton?”

“He called out your name–” she gasped a heavy sob “– while he was fucking me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Okay, wow,” you thought, “that’s actually really shitty – fuck.”

“Do you know how humiliating that was for me? He was still inside me, for fucks’ sake! I felt him shrink!”

Okay – that was so much more information about Annabel’s and Felix’s sex life than you ever wanted to know.

You coughed into your hand as your face flushed red. “Oh, um–I’ve never really…done it before. So…I wouldn’t really don’t know how that feels.”

“Ugh, of course, you’re a virgin,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink either.”

When you remained silent, Annabel let out a bitter laugh. “Damn, you think you’re hot shit and everything. But you really are a goody-goody. What – you saving yourself for God or some shit?”

“HEY! Just because I like to keep my head down and not a party and get plastered every five minutes doesn’t make me a goody-two-shoes. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol, and increased chances of lung cancer doesn’t exactly spell out ‘fun’ for me.”

But Annabel ignores your outburst and continues to dismiss you. “Yeah, right. I bet you call your mommy and daddy every night. Do you tell them that you miss them and want to go home? Or do you wish to bake cookies with your mummy as daddy watches the telly?”

Annabel’s taunting is only responded to with silence as she grows confused by your melancholic expression.

“…I can’t call them at all,” you respond. “International calls are too expensive. The best I can do is email or Skype. And planned calls can hardly be reliable since my parents’ schedules are always all over the place with their jobs.”

“When–” Annabel’s voice cracked “– when’s the last time you saw them? In real life?”

“I was supposed to see them during Christmas Break,” you bitterly explained, “but then Felix crashed into me when I was on my way to deliver it. He ruined my painting, and I had to redo it completely, not to fail and completely flush my parents’ money down the drain.”

“I thought you were here on scholarship? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay to come here?”

“I’m here on a partial scholarship,” you explained. “It covers a good part of my tuition, but not all of it – and definitely not for housing and meal plans. Travel expenses alone were so expensive, so I had to leave alone. Mom cried so much at the security checkpoint, and Dad almost didn’t want me to go. I didn’t even want to go. But they wanted me to experience more of the world while I still could.”

“…Do you miss them?” Annabel asked. She felt silly asking a question with such an obvious answer. But, hearing how you talked about your parents crying their goodbyes to you compared to the simple wave she got hers after they dropped her off campus made her feel a deep longing.

You let out a shaky sob. “More than anything. You never realize how much you miss your home and family until an entire ocean separates you.”

Annabel uncomfortably shifted in her spot as she noticed your eyes getting misty. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried over missing her parents and felt that you were being overdramatic. Annabel spent her entire break with her parents at their house, but she couldn’t remember the last time they ate at the same table unless it was for one of her dad’s dinner parties. What did it feel like – to miss and love someone so much after not seeing them for a year?

What did it feel like – to have an entire lifetime of that kind of love?

Does having that kind of love make you?

“…Why did you help me?” Annabel finally asked. She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. “You could have just left me there. Why help me and bring me here of all places?”

“…Because it was the right thing to do,” you explained and shrugged. “You were drunk and vulnerable. Maybe it was fear of being a potential bystander if someone tried to take advantage of you – but I was scared something was going to happen to you. Regardless of my feelings toward you and yours toward me, no one should ever find themselves in a position where if they’re telling the truth, it’s someone else’s word against theirs. I’ve seen it too happen many times already.”

“What do you say in response to that?” Annabel thought to herself – shocked by how genuinely you answered her question. Since you were honest with her, she figured she could at least be honest with you.

“If it were you,” she began, “I wouldn’t have done for you what you did for me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you probably wouldn’t – but that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

“…Are you really not interested in Felix?” Annabel asked. She was surprised by your disgusted groan.

“Oh my god–” you put your face into your hands and loudly groaned “–I don’t understand why everyone has an obsession with this guy.”

Annabel raised her brow. “Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s so gross – I studied in an empty classroom last week. He sat next to me, basically propositioned me, and then put his hand on my thigh! Does that sound like someone I would want to date?”

“You know he’s just doing it to get your attention because he likes you, right?”

You scoffed at her input. “Pffft– and that makes it alright of him to invade my personal space via sexual harassment? I hate how everyone makes excuses for him – and why? Because he’s richer than God and has an ‘alright-looking’ face? So what?”

“Oh, believe me,” snickered Annabel, “he’s more than just ‘alright-looking’ and he fucks as good as he looks.”

You sagely shook your head. “A person like that has nothing to offer himself. He desperately clings to his family’s wealth and the benefits of his status so tightly – and he pretends not to enjoy it, but he’s the type of person to love leeching on someone’s misfortune to feel better about himself.”

You shuddered as you remembered Felix’s constant leering at you since the term began.

“He’s like a vampire – I’ve seen enough of them in high school to recognize them from miles away.”

Annabel was utterly silent at your analysis of Oxford’s Golden Boy. She never considered the possibility of someone out there who didn’t absolutely covet and revere him. She assumed that you were purposely playing ‘hard-to-get’ to get his attention, but maybe you were sincere in his disgust by him.

“Plus, he looks like the type to be absolutely shit at foreplay and only knows how to stick it in.”

Annabel was so caught off-guard by your statement that she immediately burst out laughing. You were surprised by her reaction and started to laugh, too. She was laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach started to hurt.

“HE IS!” she agreed while nodding. “He does the bare minimum! I’ve been giving him constant blowjobs, and I can count the number of times he’s eaten me out with one hand! The only type of prep he knows how to do is finger me!”

“Oh my god! EW!” you guffawed. “Why did you put up with him for so long?!”

Annabel shrugged. “He’s the most popular guy on campus – even the upperclassmen adore him. I was always the popular girl throughout primary and secondary prep. It just made sense.”

“My parents told me college was all about discovering new things about yourself,” you said. “Maybe…you could do that for yourself.”

Annabel looked wistful before nodding. “Yeah…you know this doesn’t mean we’re friends, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, tonight’s the last night I’m willingly dealing with a demon like you. I’ll stick to forcing Michael to watch my favorite Johnny Depp movies—thank you very much.”

Annabel watched your eyes soften at the mention of your friend…Michael Gravy? Was he the guy who left the two of you together after snarking at her?

…Oh god, it all made sense now.

“Are you and Gravy fucking?” she bluntly asked. She huffed in amusement at how red your face became as you began to sputter.

“WHAT?! No-NO! We’re friends!” you exclaimed before getting all shy.

“You were awfully protective of him a bit ago to be ‘just friends,’” Annabel countered. “Spill it – what’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend,” you explained to Annabel. “He let me stay with his family after I finished repainting my assignment – which was really amazing of him.”

She watched how you smiled when continuing to talk about him.

“I know he can seem a bit odd and rude at first,” you continued. “But Michael is one of the best people on campus. He can be really sweet when you get close to him – especially when he talks about his family. His little sister, Lily, is so adorable! He’s a total nerd but a complete sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Annabel bemusedly watched as you gushed about your ‘best friend.’ It was almost sweet how gone you were for the nerd. You didn’t even realize how gone you were for him. For a bit, Annabel could see why Felix was so enamored with you.

“Well,” she interrupted as she stood up, “I guess your obliviousness to your feelings isn’t any of my business or whatever. Thanks for…helping me – it was really nice of you.”

You warmly smiled at her. “Sure! Do you have to meet anyone tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, no?”

You walked to your closet and grabbed a towel, a worn T-shirt, and old sweats. You handed them to her as Annabel looked at you in confusion.

“Since you’re here,” you began, “and it’s already like…3 a.m. – you might as well shower and stay over since tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“…Why?”

“You still have puke all over you,” you explained, “and it’s getting really hard pretending it’s not extremely gross. Plus, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable right now.”

“What’s with the clothes?”

You shrugged. “Well, I can’t exactly have you sleep in your dress and ruin my sheets! You can shower and sleep on my bed while I sleep on my roommate’s. Now, are you going to take them?”

Annabel hesitated before she took the bundle from your hands. You then opened the door. While holding it, you looked at her as if expecting her to follow you. What confused her most was the way she did exactly that.

While in the shower, she didn’t even mind that you didn’t have any of her usual hair products. Your conditioner looked like it was bought at a cheap dollar store – you didn’t even have a loofah. But when she exited the shower stall before drying herself with your towel and changing into your baggy clothes, she felt calmer than she had these past few weeks. As she crawled under your sheets and comforter, you turned off the night and wished her good night.

Annabel stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she grabbed her phone. She managed to find it while digging through her dress pockets. She was going to wash it when she got back to her dorm. Opening it, she rolled down at the dozens of messages from India and their girlfriends. Her eyes slightly widened at the soft *ping* her phone let out when she got a new message to show it was from Felix.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t care he messaged her that he had forgotten their plans. Staring at her screen, she just felt…nothing. So she did the very thing she should have done weeks ago.

She deleted Felix Catton’s number from her contact list.

Annabel slept better that night than she had all term.

After that night with Annabel, life simply went on. She and you weren’t ‘friends’ per se, but she no longer went out of her way to torment you like she had done before. She even told off some of her friends when they talked about you behind your back.

You two weren’t friends, but you hoped that there was at least some fraction of mutual respect. If you couldn’t be friends, then at least you two didn’t have to be enemies – you were happy to settle for being a ‘frenemy.’

You found yourself sitting by yourself at one of the tables in the library. Michael had to meet with one of his teachers about an essay but promised to meet with you as soon as he finished. You were repeatedly listening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” when you heard the chair next to you being pulled out.

Fully expecting it to be Felix, you were ready to tell him to fuck off and bother some other poor soul that needed saving, but you were surprised to find that the person sitting next to you was his cousin, Farleigh Start. He introduced himself by stating his name and giving you a firm handshake. There wasn’t much you could do but reciprocate.

“Quite the save you gave our Annabel,” Farleigh grinned. “Very magnanimous of you, especially considering how she treated you.”

“What do you want from me?” you blurted out. “I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you just left so I can continue studying.”

You weren’t normally so rude, but this was Felix Catton’s cousin – and if this was a ploy to get you in his pants, you wanted no part of it. But your skepticism only seemed to please the boy sitting beside you more. His wry grin curled into a wide Cheshire Cat smile as he continued to stare at you with eager fascination.

Farleigh started to lean toward you, and you instinctively leaned away from him. You eyed him with extreme caution as if he were a mad scientist and you were a paralyzed specimen. And his eyes looked like he couldn’t wait to cut you open.

“I like you,” he stated. “Let’s be friends.”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz

Reblog if you liked reading this chapter and want me to continue! Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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theycallmemarcy · 7 months ago

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tim laflour dating headcanons

tim laflour x reader

warnings: none

a/n: after not writing for some time, i wanted to upload something short ! not proofread, enjoy !

- he asked you out right after winning a hockey game !

“i was just wondering um, if you would maybe want to have dinner with me?” he said while touching the back of his neck, looking nervous. “we just won the game so—“

“are you asking me out on a date tim?” he chuckled “no i mean—umm yeah, yeah i’m asking you out on a date” you giggled at that.

“i’ll meet you outside tim, your pick !” he went rushing back in to change quickly while blushing like a little kid.

- it was a really cute date in this lovely little mexican place, it was his favourite.

- he walked you back home where he kissed you goodbye, softly not wanting to seem eager, which you gladly accepted

- after that you always go to all of his games, which he loves since he doesn’t act as violent when you’re around (which his teammates are grateful for)

- he gave you his spare jersey to wear to his games, so that everyone can see you’re his

- you share earbuds on your way to class

- he greets you he comes up behind you he grabs your waist and pecks your neck

- calls you babe, all.the.time. it may be basic, he still loves it

- you guys go rollerblading everywhere !! he always holds your hand, his reasoning for this is just in case any of you two fall, so you fall together, it would be embarrassing if any of you fall alone, so he has an excuse to hold your hand !

- takes up the whole bed, like a starfish, if you want space you’ll have to fight for it, same thing with bedsheets, hell hoard them in his sleep (you’ve ended up waking him up and scolding him several times)

“but i’m asleep it isn’t even my fault!” “we’ll see about that tim” you say, teasing him.

- which he makes up for by kissing you, a lot.

- about kissing, he’s so obsessed with you and kissing you 25/8

- middle of class ? “just a quick peck babe”

- after a game ? he’ll kiss the soul out of you

- getting a new piercing ? “if you kiss me it’s less scary”

- he has no limit, he loves you too much

- always let’s you have the first bite of food, no matter the ocasion, and also the last

- you guys have sleepovers all the time ! it always involves some bad slasher from the 80’s and snacks, and sometimes darryl

- when you stay over you always wear his jersey (which makes him very shy)

- he doesn’t care if it’s extremely hot, he will cuddle you to sleep always

- he loves being the big spoon, but most of the time you end up holding him (he loves being in your arms)

- records cd’s and cassettes for you to listen to !

#matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #tim laflour #tim laflour x reader #senseless 1998 #matthew lillard fluff

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supercap2319 · 6 months ago

Note

I was wonder if you could do an x male reader for Peter Hale. Where it’s Young Peter and Peter just realized male reader is his mate after catching his scent. And he just trips on his own face in the middle of the high school halls because that where Peter first caught their scent

Peter learned about mates from such a young age. His older sister, Talia, would tell him stories of what it would be like to have and mate, and when Peter would find his, he would know. He thought that Corinne might be his true mate. She was cute enough, but maybe it was more hormonal than true love.

He pushed his way through the hallways of Beacon Hills. Nothing bad or exciting ever happened here. Peter's family was the only pack in town. Of course, there were the Argents, specifically, Chris Argent, in almost every single one of Peter's classes. Peter knew that he would turn out to be just like the rest of his family. Hunters. Hunters of Peter's kind. Of werewolves.

Maybe Peter would go visit his sister after school and his two year old nephew, Derek. Catch a movie or go for a run in the woods. Whatever Peter's original plans were going to be were put to a stop as he inhaled something sweet and sharp. Almost like a cinnamon scent. Peter felt his inner wolf howl with delight as his eyes flashed gold for a second, and his claws and canines came out. What the hell was going on? Why was he shifting in the middle of the hallway....

Then Peter saw him: Y/N L/N.

Y/N was on the basketball team with Noah Stilinski. He was a golden boy. He was kind to all, and he was fucking burning Peter's nose with his scent. The smell of cinnamon was all over him, and Peter realized that this mortal boy was his mate. A male was his mate? Who would have guessed it?

Peter was so caught up in Y/N's smell that he accidentally tripped over his own two feet and came crashing to the floor in the middle of the hallway. Books, pens, papers, and Peter's Walkman of Nirvana went all across the floor. The sounds of laughter and ridicule were heavy on Peter's ears as the entire hallway saw his little slip up and started laughing and pointing at him.

The young werewolf would have gladly tore through everyone in school, especially, Argent, but the calming scent of his mate filled his nose, and Peter watched as Y/N kneeled down beside him and helped him pick up his stuff. "Shit, man. You okay?" Y/N asked once Peter was on his feet again.

Peter's head was still dizzy from his mate's scent, and it took everything Peter had not to take him right then and there in the hallway. He swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks, man. Guess I slipped on the floor wax." It was a lame excuse, but Y/N didn't seem to be interested in Peter's lies. He was looking at a cassette Peter's Walkman had dropped. "Dude, you like Pearl Jam and Metallica too? I love these guys."

Peter looked at him and smirked. "Me too. Maybe we should hang out sometime and listen to them?"

"Definitely." Y/N smiled.

The bell rang as Y/N looked at Peter. "Better get to class. Hope you're okay, Peter."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N." Peter smiled as the young man flashed him a smile and left as Peter finally found his mate.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #peter hale #Peter Hale x male reader #teen wolf #ian bohen #Young ian bohen #mates

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moralesmilesanhour · 1 year ago

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if you believe in me - 01

summary: You and Miles decide to make it official. Kind of. wc: 763 warnings: none a/n: I love setting my characters up for failure <3

Miles hadn't texted you at all since the kiss, but not for lack of trying.

He would begin to type out a message:

"hi".

No, too empty. Perhaps a bit creepy.

Backspace.

"hey :)"

Would you expect him to use smiley faces? No, it felt too different to how he spoke in real life. Backspace.

Maybe he should rip a page out of his classmates' playbook. It always seemed to work for them when he peered over at their screens.

"wyd?"

He frowned at his phone in bewilderment. Why would he ask that all of a sudden with no context?

Backspace.

"Hey, Y/N! Just checking in to see how you're doing."

Miles mentally cursed himself when he realized how much the text sounded like an email.

He flopped down onto his bed in defeat, and checked his digital alarm clock. 7:30 pm. He had been sitting there for an entire half hour and could hardly get a greeting out, probably leaving you to wonder why the boy who had literally kissed you last week couldn’t be bothered to send a text.

Miles knew that today would be special when his phone alarm actually woke him up - and from a dreamless sleep, at that. Normally the sun would practically blind him after the curtains were thrown open by his mother, yelling frantically about how he was going to be late in half an hour. The sky was miraculously just turning a periwinkle blue outside, and the possibility of actually getting breakfast seemed within reach for once.

Miles squinted to read the menu above him. Ordering a spicy beef patty before 8 in the morning sounded like a poor dietary decision, so he went with a bacon egg and cheese sandwich like everyone else. As soon as he backed up from the counter, he made the mistake of glancing to his right at the fridge containing drinks on the other side of the bodega, and his stomach dropped.

Your jacket was instantly recognizable, even from a mile away.

Miles threw on his hoodie and shuffled over to the aisle behind him, where he pretended to be preoccupied with a container of instant coffee while trying to keep his face covered. When he saw movement in his periphery, he ducked his head and inched his way towards the freezer that contained his prized can of Arizona tea. He was about to reach for the handle, just inches away from success, when your voice stopped him:

“Morales?!? Where the hell have you been?”

Fuck.

“Hey,” Miles gave you a tight smile as he turned slowly to face you. “How…how are you?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, before lightly smacking him in the arm. “Haven’t heard from you in a minute, though. Why I ain’t catch you in class?”

The boy shrugged. “I dunno. Still in the same seat every day. Maybe you just missed me.”

As he said this, Miles recalled seeing you in the cafeteria while making his way upstairs the other day and ducking behind a trash can before your eyes could meet. You having gone back to your regular seat in AP Calc made avoidance even easier; he could simply time when he went over to his seat, a small crowd of students providing ample cover.

“Chopped cheese!” a man called out from the front, interrupting his thoughts.

“That’s me,” you said with a grin.

“”Bacon egg and cheese!”

“And that’s me,” Miles replied as he spun around to retrieve his order, making sure to leave room for you to pass behind him after grabbing your sandwich.

Once outside, he realized that you were staring at him. Not just in passing, but expectantly. Was he meant to do something?

“What?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“You like me, right?”

“I-um…yeah,” Miles’ eyes darted away from your face. “I don’t think I’d kiss anybody I didn’t like.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you didn’t text me at all afterwards. I was starting to get the wrong impression!”

He snorted, “Well, now you’ve got the right one.”

“Sooo…” you tilted your head. “Does that mean we’re like, a thing now?”

He tensed at the suggestion. ‘A thing’. You’d think it was obvious what that meant, but what did it really mean in tenth grade? Sit at home and kiss a lot?

But your smile began to falter the longer he took, and the sight stung him.

“I guess we are,” Miles finally replied. He looked down. “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand, duh!”

He let you intertwine your fingers with his, tentatively squeezing them in return.

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x black!reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #moralesanhour

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neiptune · 1 year ago

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something's not quite right with them

c/w: 2.4k wc, the secret history au, implied incest, implied dark themes, gojo and suguru and everyone else are secretive annoying & disgustingly elite students, the dark academia setting just really does it for me idk i want to play around with dark themes more

PART 2

The library is empty enough to give you less excuses not to focus on what’s in front of you, thick books piled on top of each other and messy notes taken on isolated pieces of paper you keep forgetting to arrange in an order that would make sense.

Most of the students have travelled back home for christmas but you’re too behind on your study plan and had decided that staying would’ve made you more productive than joining your parents on a christmas trip to Salzburg. What an idiot.

The only things you’ve been able to focus on during the past hour are the specks of dust lazily dancing in the winter sun filtering through the tall windows, and the group of people sitting two tables away from you. Their presence there is so unusual one might guess it holds the reason of almost every single stare in the room locked to them, hesitation laced with morbid curiosity. But, truth be told, they’d be alluring anyway, anywhere.

There’s something weird and unnerving about how they carry themselves, always so elegant and eerily enticing. It doesn’t help that they’re almost never around, only attend one class and spend their time exclusively with one another.

To state that you never wondered what went down behind closed doors on evenings and Sunday mornings would be a lie. An entire classroom shut down, barricated for just six people and the only professor you’d refused to endear yourself to would pique anyone’s interest.

You don’t like them, therefore you never had any reason to feel lured enough to attempt a conversation like so many have, with fairly disappointing outputs no less. You don’t like the haughtiness embedded in their attentive stares, the smug sense of superiority surrounding each component of the clique like a nebulous haze that bodes ill.

You don’t like how that Utahime girl constantly sits on her sister Shoko’s lap, letting the latter card thin fingers through her hair so languidly one might get the wrongest idea. You don’t like the contrast posed by that bubbly Yu guy, always far too excited to discuss whatever it is they study in their stupidly exclusive, obsolete literae humaniores class. You don’t like Nanami Kento and his insufferable, stoic expression: he looks like he’s carved in stone, the cold and sharp-edged kind.

You definitely don’t like the best friends, Suguru and his sickeningly condescending smiles, Satoru with his infuriatingly cocky smirks and jokes blurted out loud in Latin or Greek to complete strangers passing by their table, only to laugh at their confusion. You can’t quite put your finger on it but those two have some odd dynamic going on, although you’ve never been one to believe the weird rumors suggesting secret relationships, clandestine gatherings at night or straight up incest. People love to make up stories about popular students they can’t approach and the group certainly is weird enough to fuel some unusual fantasies.

Still, that Gojo guy sometimes looks at his friend like he’d want to swallow him whole and you swear you’ve seen Geto tilt his head up with a gentle hold of his chin more than once, speaking in soft murmurs only inches away from his lips.

Whatever they have going on, it’s none of your business. But you do wonder what they learn in that class, if their exams are any different from yours, where the hell they disappear to from time to time, why they all stayed instead of travelling home for the holidays. Don’t they have families? Are the perfect, most elite students of the already disgustingly elite college having trouble keeping up with their study plan too?

Lost in your thoughts, you notice Suguru’s sharp gaze suddenly darting to yours a second too late. You instantly bring your focus back to the notes you have messily scattered across the table but Satoru’s distinctive, petulant chuckle travels all the way to your ears and your hold on the pencil grows a little tighter.

You don’t dare look in their direction again and actually end up getting some work done, taking short breaks every now and then only to reply to your roommate’s texts. Thank god she’s more than a few states away, Hina is never one to shy away from challenges and she also fell victim of an irrepressible (and, quite honestly inexplicable) fascination with the Classics gang, as she likes to call them. She’d meet Geto’s gaze and bluntly ask if she could join their table with one of her charming smiles, not even bothering to mouth the question or get up to discreetly inquire. She wouldn’t care about heads turning and strangers whispering and you can’t shake the feeling that they’d actually end up indulging her. If as a cruel joke or out of genuine interest, you’re not sure.

As you rise from your seat to start collecting all the exam prep materials, a single glance is all you allow yourself. It’s enough. Suguru is elegantly supporting his head on hands clasped underneath his chin, the thought of his feline eyes having been set on you the entire time teasing your spine with a shudder. Satoru follows suit: he’s been clearly chewing the top of his pen and he lets it rest between his pearly teeth as thin lips stretch into a cheshire smile right as your gaze slips away again, the attempt at giving yourself some sort of composure seemingly amusing him.

You clear your throat and unceremoniously shove books and notes into your leather backpack, the pads of your fingers growing increasingly cold as the air in the library suddenly changes. There are less students sitting at the dark, agarwood tables now, the sunset must be a mere half an hour away and for some silly reason, the greenish glow the little electric lamps cast over the chestnut of the shelves and the burgundy of the walls turns unsettling.

It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Then why are your hands shaking while you gather the few remaining tomes you couldn’t fit in your bag?

Let them look if they want to. You’re going to keep your head up and march by their table and the disturbing, fleeting moment will recede to the back of your mind as soon as you’re out of the library, free to focus on a matter of the uppermost importance: what the hell to get for dinner.

Still, the tweed of your skirt feels itchy on your legs and the opaque black tights are sticking uncomfortably to the skin. You hope the way you loosen your tie is casual enough, as opposed to the booming clacking of your chelsea boots along the polished pavement.

You know you’re not imagining the way the table grows silent as you approach it, every nerve deemed alert by gazes still stubbornly, shamelessly fixed on you. And yet, if they think you’re going to attempt some sort of approach, they better brace themselves for a big, fat, disappointing—

“Excuse me?” his voice is as soft as velvet, melodious in a way you never would’ve guessed. It stops you in your tracks and, for some reason, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the same time.

Suguru offers one of his saccharine smiles when you meet his eyes.

“We have a debate going on. Perhaps you could help us settle it”

Utahime is staring at you with an arched brow, not entirely hostile but indifferent enough to make it clear she’s far from being interested in your opinion on whatever matter. Her sister’s arms are loose around her slim frame, one hand comfortably resting on her naked thigh, skirt sitting shockingly high on her legs. Shoko doesn’t smile but shfits slightly forward in her chair when you glance at her, head tilted to the side in quiet anticipation.

“I doubt it” you reply, not adverse either but certainly resolute enough to elicit a chuckle. Yeah, you don’t fucking like that Yu guy.

“Oh, come on” Geto softly reclaims your attention once more “I’d love to hear your opinion on the matter”

“She doesn’t have any valuable opinion on the matter. Let it go, Suguru” Utahime starts to impatiently tap on the book in front of her with a pencil.

He hums, seemingly pensive.

“Is that so?” the fake disappointment in his voice makes a vein on your forehead throb.

You narrow your gaze and shift the weight of the books you’re holding to your left arm. Whatever stupid game or bet this is, perhaps it’s time for someone to teach these assholes the school is far from being their personal playground.

“What debate?”

Gojo’s smirk isn’t but a teasing curve in your peripheral.

“Some of us believe that Roman literature is too derivative of the Greek one to be deemed original” Suguru doesn’t add a question to his statement, he simply leaves it hanging in the air as he waits for you to bite.

And hell, you do.

“Only because genre-defining works are all in Greek. But should all epics be judged against Homer? Should all history be judged against Herodotus, all comedy against Aristophanes?”

Nanami’s eyes lazily travel to you for the first time but you don’t falter, nor you let Utahime’s scoff distract you from Geto’s magnetic gaze.

“So we shouldn’t compare, say, De Rerum Natura to any of Epicurus’ writings?” the challenge he offers is polite. You simply shrug.

“You could, but would that take away the fact that it remains one of the most original pieces of all ancient literature? Lucretius was the first one to write a didactic epic about philosophy. Latin literature found an innovative way to build depth and exist within an already established tradition, why would you reduce it to being merely derivative?”

He stares back for a moment too long before offering another one of his enigmatic smiles.

“It’s six to one, Hime” Yu grins as he faintly throws an eraser that hits her arm.

“Oh, give me a fucking break” she groans, gaze now fiery confronting yours “Latins were assimilators, borrowers. I’m willing to bet your ignorance goes as far as arguing that everything Virgil has ever written won’t be forever inferior to anything Homer’s ever thought”

You ignore Yu’s low, impressed whistle and take a second to weigh each word she’s spat. Then, you offer a gentle smile.

“Comparing works of literature, particularly when composed in two different languages and centuries apart, is awfully subjective. But sure, I will bite. The Aeneid, the Illiad and the Odyssey are all written in dactylic hexameter but I would argue that, in general, Homeric poetry is just not as cohesive, not as harmonious. The Aeneid is briefer and still, it manages to evoke both Homeric epics beautifully. We can’t hold Virgil accountable for the fact that Homer came first, can we? You’re focused on the wrong comparison anyway, you should’ve asked me to pick between Virgil and Ovid”

Shoko’s giggle is sweet enough to dim Utahime’s deep scowl. She kisses her shoulder and whispers something about knowing when to admit defeat, chocolate eyes never leaving your figure.

“Requiescat in pace” Yu sticks his tongue out and effectively dodges the eraser being thrown back at him, boyish grin making his eyes glimmer with malice.

“Would you like to sit?” literal honey trickles from Suguru’s relaxed tone, a closed hand now resting on his cheek, index finger pressing to the temple. He looks absolutely unfazed by his friends’ antics, much more focused on studying you instead.

“Suguru!” Utahime’s hiss is certainly rewarding, just not enough to convince you to accept what suddenly feels like an offer there is no turning back from.

Right as you’re about to speak, Satoru straightens up in his seat and you can no longer resist the urge to glance in his direction. You’ve heard about his eyes before, the not so quiet gossiping involving the group always surrounding him the most. He truy does look as perfect as they say, disturbingly so actually, so much that he instantly reminds you of Aether, son of Erebus and Nyx, personification of the sky.

The way he smiles makes you take a tentative step back for good measure: whatever element balances the blessing of such ethereal beauty, must be extraordinary in its darkness.

“Cubitum eamus?”

It’s impossible to blink back your surprise, one that has the corners of his lips curl further up. The boyish inflection of his voice doesn’t pair well with the wicked glint in that otherworldly, challenging stare.

Suguru lets out a good natured huff, Nanami’s scoff sounds much more sincere. It gives you the courage not to succumb to the blood rushing to your cheeks, undesired heat making your insides churn with sincere revulsion.

“Malo mori quam foedari” you murmur it as a prayer to keep yourself safe and don’t spare any of them a single other glance as the urge to get out of the room finally becomes unbearable.

Some would find the deviant laughter that follows you all the way outside of the building amusing, perhaps even satisfying. But all it does is leave a rancid taste in your mouth and as you make your way back to your dorm, you can’t help but feel as if you have taken one too many steps toward something you really don’t want to have anything to do with.

Satoru watches your upside down figure walk away, chair leaned back as he throws his head back in laughter.

“Suguru” he smiles, the tip of his tongue running along his upper lip while he still eyes the wooden doors that have swallowed you “she’d be fun to play with”

“You’re repulsive” Kento’s eyes run along the page he’s so focused on reading, disapproving frown by now a habit more than a timely reaction.

“I think we should get to have a little fun” Shoko ignores her sister’s glare as she sweetly mirrors Gojo’s smile, hand warm as the pads of her fingers sneak underneath Utahime’s skirt to soothe her irritation.

“Let me have her first” Satoru feels ignited as he meets his best friend’s gaze, he recognizes the dimmed flame beginning its faint flicker within it “let me ruin her just enough for you”

Suguru knows he’s lying. All Satoru does is take and take until there’s nothing left, he consumes everything he touches way before anyone else has the chance of getting their fair share. He lives for himself and is still arrogant enough to like that Geto can see right through his bluffs, gets a twisted pleasure from pushing his limits more and more to find out when the wire will snap.

Sure, he’ll let him have it his way yet again. Suguru doesn’t appreciate rush, knows that true corruption takes time and, boy, does he have all the time in the world.

index vocabulorum:

requiescat in pace - rest in peace

cubitum eamus? - will you go to bed with me?

malo mori quam foedari - death rather than dishonor

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

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harrysmmm · 1 year ago

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✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴅ.ᴍ

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball.

A/N: should I make a part two? I feel like a little bit of jealous Malfoy after knowing that Harry has a crush on Y/N could make a nice follow-up.

W/C: 1.6K

masterlist here

Annoying. That’s the word you would use to describe that moment. One of the qualities you always acknowledged possessing was empathy. You softened with people that were sensitive; you listened to people that were suffering; you loved people that were lonely. It was in your nature to care for people, to try to understand their motives. But at that specific moment in time, you wanted to slap the shit out of a certain one.

Brat, bugger, git, prat, smart-ass, toff, wanker, yob, the list went on. That’s how you would describe Draco Malfoy. He had it against you and your friends. No - correction: he had it against everyone that was not a damn pureblood slyther-fucking-in. You would turn a corner and there he was casting a spell that would make you slipper like a seven-year-old in a slide. You would enter a classroom and find your table gravitating in the air, with all your notes scattered all over the classroom. You would eat in the Great Hall and a dead tarantula was right in your pumpkin soup. Since first year, he had been mocking you and your closest friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione. And even if the most well-known rivalry was the one he had with Harry, yours was more personal.

That cloudy day of October he decided to throw bird notes at you in Transfiguration class that distracted you from paying attention. Some of the messages followed as:

“Hey Y/L/N, I bumped into the kitchen elves this morning, they were wondering why the dishes were not done. I told them you were probably busy eating all the leftovers.” “Hey Gryffindork, saw Longbottom is still free for the yule ball, maybe you can both live your pathetic little Gryffindor tale together. P.S. You could also ask Hagrid. Bet he’s free for you.”

Private. That’s the way you would describe Harry Potter in one word. You two were close, although not as close as he was with Ron, or as close as you were with Hermione. The fact that he was always bearing the prophecy of being the chosen one was something that would set you apart – mostly because you weren’t living it and he didn’t like to further explain. It was in third year that you surprised yourself with your body’s reaction to his presence. How you started to care about the way your laugh went out during a joke; you started to care about how your hair would fall when you were sitting at the library. You developed a crush on the boy. You never made a move; he never seemed to notice, nor reciprocate it, so you eventually desisted and focused your attention on other matters.

Those were the only two boys you would mostly communicate with, for better or worse. You didn’t particularly consider yourself an introvert, but you surely counted your acquaintances on a low number, especially when it came to boys. You also bared the weight of Hermione’s influence, who was surely not into boys’ talk, or boys in general. When you were with her, which happened to be most of the time, you followed her flow and ended up not particularly wondering about dating, or romantic feelings for the matter.

However, due to the debut of the Triwizard Tournament, there was a ball that was going to take place on the 25th of December. A ball that you needed a date for. Date that, after a week of having been announced, you still didn’t have. You hadn’t been worrying until Hermione had told you that she already had a date, with no other than Viktor Krum, the hottie of the year. And if even Hermione had already managed to find a partner, that meant that you were way behind.

“You have a date?!” asked Ron, very surprised.

“Yes Ronald, why that tone?” Hermione replied.

“Bloody hell, who are you going with?” he continued, still shocked.

“I’m not telling you, but I have one,” she pretentiously replied.

“’m sure you’re bluffing,” he insisted, grinning.

“I am not! Ask Y/N!”

“She’s not,” you simply replied.

“Just because you still don’t have a date, doesn’t mean I don’t get to have one,” she said. You noticed Ron’s reaction really got to her.

“I don’t have a date because I don’t want one just now.”

“Now you are the one who’s bluffing,” commented Harry.

“You gotta help me out here, mate,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“You’re pathetic Ronald Weasley,” added Hermione, furiously closing her notebook. She stood up from her seat, handing her homework to Professor Snape. “See you later, Y/N.” You waved goodbye at her.

“Bloody hell, this woman is so delusional. I bet she made that man up,” Ron continued after Hermione had left the classroom.

“You’re too hard on her, Ron. Besides, she does really have a date,” you said, defending her.

“I already pity the man then,” he replied, focusing back on his homework.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer, also focusing on the task that was on the desk.

“For Merlin’ sake, I can’t focus. I’mma go, I’ll finish it in the dorm.” Ron stood up and exited the classroom.

“You’re probably gonna have to pass it to him,” you said to Harry.

“You bet on that,” he replied, grinning.

You focused back on your homework.

“Y/N,” uttered Harry.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I was wondering… if you want… well, I was just thinking… that if by any chance you… uh… still didn’t have a date… for the ball… you might… perhaps… wanna come… with me?”

You had a surprised grin on your face,

“Well, I mean, I thought you wanted to go with someone special… taking into consideration that you’re one of the champions,” you managed to say.

“Yes… that’s why I’m asking you,” he replied.

The entire scene unnerved you. You had been wanting to be asked out by Harry since third year, and now that he was starting to conceive your dynamic as more than friendship your feelings for the boy had already worn out.

Bloody Potter, always wrong timing.

“Can I give you a proper answer tonight?” you asked, knowing that you had to process things through before saying yes.

“Sure, yeah, no problem,” he replied.

You both smiled at each other and went back to the Potions’ homework.

It was almost time for supper but you were headed to the Great Lake to read for a few moments. Technically, you were forbidden from doing so. You meant technically, because being friends with Hagrid gave you some advantages, like a free pass to visit him and wander around. You also absolutely adored that time of the year, when the leaves were of warm tones and the chill breeze made you wear white turtle neck jumpers or jumpers that had the Gryffindor patch sewn in them.

You were comfortably reading under the shade of a tree when you started hearing boyish sounds. One of the voices you recognized belonged to a particular bleached boy.

“Woo-hoo, look who came to visit her giant boyfriend.” Draco approached you, followed by his sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle.

You didn’t even wait two seconds to get up and start packing your things.

“Leaving so soon? Are we bothering you?” He cockily started approaching you.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” you replied, closing your bag.

“What do we have here, huh? Let me see,” he asked, referring to the book you were holding.

You held it tightly but he managed to pull it from you.

“The summer I met you, ha,” he snickered. “Romantic heart, wouldn’t have bet so from you Y/L/N.”

“Can I get it back?” you asked, pulling your arm forward.

He smiled at you. “Nah.” He threw the book into the lake.

His friends started woo-hing and laughing.

“You disgusting little rat,” you pulled out your wand and directed it towards him.

He was not laughing anymore, his sidekicks directing their wands toward you too.

“You cast something, we make sure you can’t walk again,” Goyle threatened you.

“It’s alright guys,” Draco said. “Just go.”

The boys seemed confused. “Who are you talking to?”

“You, idiots. Go!” Draco snapped.

The boys didn’t move.

“You heard him. Go!” you insisted.

They pulled back, confused, and eventually left.

Your wand was still on Draco’s neck.

“Easy now, lower you bloody wand,” he calmly said.

“You’re disgusting, Draco. I mean it.” Your blood was boiling. “You treat everyone like shit. I never did anything for you to hate me. I never asked for any of this, nor did anyone.”

“Go to the ball with me,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

What in the actual fuck?

“What?” you replied.

“I want you to go to the ball with me, if you want to,” he repeated. Your wand was still on his throat.

“Why would you want that?” That was the only thing you managed to say.

He placed his right hand on your wand and slowly put it down, without losing eye contact with you.

“Isn’t it obvious, after all this time?” he said.

“I’m lost, Draco. I have no idea what is going on,” you replied, ideas of him feeling the opposite of hate for you coming to your mind.

“You’re that blind, aren’t you?” he continued, placing one hand on your wrist.

You freezed at his contact.

“Why am I blind?” you were only able to ask stupid questions at that point.

He held your face with his left hand.

“So blind…” He got closer to your face, his eyes slowly closing.

You waited for the impact. And there you had it.

His lips slowly brushed yours, still not fully colliding.

“I’m crazy for you, Y/N,” he said with both of your faces glued to each other. “You can’t even fucking imagine.”

“Since when?” you replied.

“Since always.”

Magically annoying. Those are the words you would use to describe that moment.

part two

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago

Note

YOUR WORKS ARE SO AMAZING IT'S UNREAL, i love how you write for the boys and how you can make it so wholesome and heartwarming without losing their essence and characterization, i don't know how to explain but the vibe of your writing is like being in woodsboro with them, ughhh how can you be so good?!! loll

so, i was wondering if i could request the boys (separately) with a Y/N who loves to spoil them, and i mean it, it doesnt need to be only with payed gifts but she loves to cook for them, to clean, to cuddle and even to dress them up like babies, URGHHH THEY NEED LOVE AND I NEED TO SPOIL THEM OUT OF THEIR MIND

still, remember to take care of yourself and to drink water, feel free to deny!! love uu ❤

First of all this made me so happy you are the sweetest person ever thank you so much 💕 and I absolutely live for the fluffy requests so here ya go!

Billy

"Excuse me!" You shouted politely as you walked through the sea of children with your hands full. The lunch bell had rang, so naturally all hell broke loose. Making your way to the water fountain Billy's eyes seemed to light up at the sight of you. "What is it today?" Randy asked a little disappointed he never got anything. You handed Billy his lunch box while the group of friends waited to see what's inside.

Billy never went without and you made sure of it. There was chicken wraps, grapes, pretzels and a slice of the pie you made him the night previous. "Babe, it's great. Thank you." Billy looked up at you his eyes squinting from the sun. You leaned down pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome." You chirped setting next to him. "You know Y/n you're supposed to be his girlfriend not his mom." It was a sore subject but Stu never understood how to shut his mouth. Billy turned his head not being able to take the smile off his face. "Yeah and where are your parents Macher?"

Stu laughed. "That's fair man." Billy cut into the pie first taking a bite of the dessert. Before he could even taste the food you asked if he liked it. He nodded trying to quickly chew the food. "It's amazing." He grabbed your hand squeezing it with a smile. Tatum and Sydney thought you and Billy were the cutest couple at Woodsboro. Stu and Randy however had never seen Billy act this way. Everyone in a five mile radius could see you had him wrapped around your finger. You stayed hugged up to Billy's arm as you and him finished his lunch. It was a mandatory rule at this point that if you made him lunch you had to eat with him. Most of the time he quickly ate the dessert leaving you with baby carrots or whatever healthy food you packed him.

"I've got to get back to class I'll see you at my place tonight?" You double checked. "I'll be there." You kissed Billy's cheek before standing up. "Make sure to get the movie before you come over." You reminded him as he smirked wondering what sort of spell you had over him. "What movie are you two love birds watching tonight?" Randy asked as you started walking. "Ghost with Patrick Swayze!" You practically bounced with excitement as you walked back into the building. Oh they were so going to make fun of your boyfriend.

Stu

Stu waited patiently on your couch as you ran off to go grab something. Being in a relationship with you he knew you had something to give him every time he came over. Last week you brought him flowers and he almost cried. He could hear you enter the room. "Keep them closed!" You scolded making the boy scoff. "If I close them any tighter I'll swallow my eyeballs." You took another look at the gift making sure everything was perfect.

"You can open." Stu blinked trying to get rid of the splotches that covered his vision. The silver charm bracelet in your hand caught his attention right away. "That's for me?" He asked picking it up gingerly like he was afraid he'd break it. "Yep. If you look it's got our initials on it like when you carved them on that tree." He grabbed the small heart charm looking at the engraved letters. You watched him struggle to latch it on his wrist so you helped.

"Do you like it?" You bit your lip nervously. Stu would wear rings and a necklace occasionally but he didn't seem like one for bracelets. Stu grabbed you pulling you on the couch. He growled like a dog as he playfully bit your neck. You screamed with laughter as he continued tickling the life out of you. "Do I like it? Of course I like it. Are you crazy? He asked still abusing your sides as you squirmed around laughing. "I'm crazy." He said stopping to let you catch your breath. "Crazy for you." He added making you look at him funny. "That was the sappiest shit I've ever heard you say."

It was pretty bad, Stu agreed with you but he saw the way you got flustered by his words. You cuddled up with him on the couch as he inspected the new piece of jewelry. "This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." You shook your head. "You say that every week." Stu leaned over kissing the top of your head. "Well you just keep getting better and better."

#billy loomis #scream #ghostface #scream 1996 #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #scream fanfic #stu macher imagine #stu macher fluff #stu ghostface #stu macher x reader #stu macher #billy loomis ghostface #billy loomis masterlist #billy loomis imagine #scream fluff #ghostface fluff

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eggdrawsthings · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask a question and I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or not so just ignore this is you’d rather not answer, but I was wondering if you went to art school or got a degree in it? I really want to start learning and maybe one day start a career in animation and wasn’t sure whether I should spend time and resources getting a degree. I know it’s going to be different for everybody and nothings a guarantee for this field but since I love your style and technical skill I was curious whether you had done that and what were your thoughts on it or if you are self-taught.

Hey anon! No worries it's all good!

Ig I should quickly go through my art journey so you can have an overall look of why I went to art school lol.

So I'm from Vietnam. I think back in 2013 I went to a small art school in Singapore (they were the only one that gave me a scholarship). My major was 3D modeling actually, but during my final year, I realized I only wanted to draw characters for animation. I could already draw decently, so I just read The Silver Way book and built a character design portfolio on my own during this time. I was lucky I got a job as a concept artist at a small animation studio there so I learned a lot from the job. I also did a lot of self-learning and took Woulter Tulp's Expressive Character class on Schoolism.

Then after 3-ish years of working, I got sick of the tiny and dying animation industry in Singapore. I wanna do sth more than just preschool shows and I was severely underpaid lmao. So I quit my job and took the MA VisDev program at AAU. It's a little more affordable cuz u can do 1 year online and the second year on-site. The reason I went to this school even tho i could just take a VisDev class online was cuz i need the visa so i can try to break into the industry in the US.

Now back to your question. Is art school a must? No. Should you still take it? Maybe, depends on your situation. If you can afford it then hell yeah by all means. Art school is great cuz you have professors and peers to help guide you along the way so you won't get lost while trying to figure out your shit. And to have a few years just experimenting and focusing on art is a great experience. Plus you can make a lot of meaningful connections in school and it will help you a long way after you grad. But if you have to go into debt to go to art school, then don't. There are places like Schoolism, CGMA, and Warrior Art Camp where you can pick what class and from whom you wanna learn. If you are not from the US and wanna break into the industry here like me however, then yeah getting a degree is a better bet cuz you can use the student visa and OPT to hopefully get a job here (it's still very very hard tho ngl im struggling rn as we speak lmao). Also, you need a BA to work overseas so there's that too. The hard truth is studios prefer to hire locally than some rando from somewhere else and have to wait for them to relocate and shit, (unless you are exceptionally good and they'd do anything to have you, but that is super rare lol).

Even though I did go to art school, I have to say most of my skills are from self-study. It requires a lot of self-discipline but I'm pretty much obsessed with drawing and I draw everyday so it's not a problem for me. But my friend is not good at that, so she found art school/classes helped her better cuz there are deadlines and instructors to help guide her to reach her goal. So it depends on your learning style tbh.

There is this chart that can help you consider your options. Im sorry it's a very long answer, cuz yes everyone's experience is different. Feel free to drop me another ask if you still have anymore questions tho ^^

Edit: I must also add, though there are online classes and ways to self-learn animation,I do think it only truly benefit you if you know exactly what you wanna do in this industry (for example I already knew i wanna become a character designer for 2d/3D animation specifically so any books/classes i took I tailored it to fit my goal). If you are unsure what you wanna do, then maybe even a cheap animation course will do better, and then you can take extra online classes on the side.

#yapping in hyperspace #Anonymous

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dragonsarecool123 · 9 months ago

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I went to the pride club at my school for the first time today and although it was a wonderful group of people it really forced me to confront just how isolating it is being aroace, because how the hell am I supposed to relate to other queer people when the main conversation is about things that I personally can’t feel? Not to mention the fact the I was the only A-spec person there and I ended up having to explain what my identity meant several different times. Like the first few times it’s fine, but you can only here so many “what’s that?” , “that can’t be a real thing!” and “so your undecided/pan” before it starts to feel a little dehumanizing or like people are mocking your identity. Looking back on my entire life and all the different times I’ve come out to people, I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter how hard you try to fit in or be “normal” being A-spec will always isolate you no matter how old you are because you see the world differently. The oldest memory I can think of where being aroace isolated me is from kindergarten when my whole class was on the playground and people were getting “married” and my little kindergarten self didn’t understand why it was such a big deal and why we were doing it, I ended up leaving my classmates and going to play in the sandpit all alone simply because I was bored. I still remember the first time I came out to my cousin (keep in mind that this is a cishet white man who’s parents are quite well off) and his immediate response was to tell me to “come back in 5 years” and tell him the same thing before he proceeded to make fun of my identity and how I’m a queer woman, and I was just kind of sitting there trying to figure out why he would do that and that’s when it hit me: this is a man who has never been made fun other for simply existing.

It infuriates me that even in queer spaces I am constantly isolated and mocked for being aroace and that the spaces that claim to be welcoming to everyone still don’t welcome Aspec people.

#lgbtqia #aroace #aromantic #asexual #aromaticism #aro positivity #ace positivity #ace #aroace positivity #aroace moment #This had been sitting in my drafts for so long

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

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hoax ~ p.p

chapter eight: the story of us

series masterlist

“Who the hell is that?”

Everyone turned their heads to see who Peter was staring at. Like always, it was you. But this time, it was you and a tall blonde boy that was making you throw your head back laughing.

“That’s Sebastian.” Kate replied.

“Sebastian? Psht. What? I’ve literally never heard of that name. What is he, a crab? Psht.” Peter scoffed and continued to stare daggers at Harry, who was leaning against your locker to be closer to you.

“Don’t “psht” him.” Gwen laughed. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Says who?” Peter scoffed again.

“Says Y/n. Because she’s totally in love with him.” Kate said in a sing-songy voice.

“Huh?” Peter asked as his eyes went wide.

“They’re a thing.” Gwen shrugged. “You didn’t know that?”

“Huh?” Peter asked again, louder this time.

“Can you stop doing that?” MJ asked him.

“What do you mean they’re a thing?” He asked the girls.

“They’re talking.” Kate shrugged.

“About what?” Peter wondered and looked over his shoulder at you again.

“No, dingus. They’re talking. As in in a talking stage.” Kate explained. Peter looked at you again before leaning in closer to the girls.

“But what are they talking about?” He whispered.

“Oh my God.” Gwen groaned. “They’re in the stage before dating. It’s commonly known as the talking stage. Haven’t you ever been in a situationship before?”

“Are these real words?” Peter asked genuinely and looked to MJ for help.

“I don’t even know what to say at this point.” MJ held up her hands in defense.

“A situationship means they have feelings for each other but aren’t in a committed relationship. At least, not yet anyway.” Kate explained.

“Exactly. They text and go on dates. That’s a situationship. And as we’ve said, the stage before dating.” Gwen continued.

“There’s a stage before dating?” Peter asked. “Isn’t that just friendship?”

“How have you never heard these words? What do boys learn in school?” Kate asked.

“Where did she even find that guy? Under the sea? He’s way too old to be blonde. Men should not be blonde past age 10. He seriously needs to grow up.” Peter scoffed as his jealousy got the better of him. He turned around to look at you again and you were doing your fake laugh as Sebastian told you a story in an obnoxiously loud voice.

“They met in her sociology class.” Kate replied. “He asked for her snap and then walked her to her next class. Isn’t that so cute?”

“So she likes that guy? And goes on dates with him?” Peter asked without taking his eyes off you. All he could think of was how some other guy was filling his space beside you on walks and taking you on dates that Peter never took you on.

“That’s what being in a situationship means, yes.” Gwen answered.

“But she just broke up with me- uh, Spiderman two months ago. She’s already moved on?” Peter asked sadly and looked back at the girls.

“Duh. Spiderman was so last semester.” Kate chuckled.

“And she’s happy with that guy?” Peter asked in a quiet voice.

“She’s over the moon.” Gwen insisted. “He’s all she talks about.”

Peters face crumbled when he heard this and he turned to look at you again. You were telling Sebastian something while he texted on his phone. You looked up when you felt eyes on you and made eye contact with Peter. He quickly looked away and felt tears come to his eyes. He blinked them back and pretended to fiddle with his shirt buttons. MJ noticed how upset he looked and as the only one present who knew why this upset him, she felt obligated to cheer him up.

“I think she’s just trying to cleanse her pallet of Spiderman. She doesn’t really like this guy. She just wants to start the process of moving on.” MJ said as she looked at Peter. Peter relaxed when he heard this and wiped his face.

“You’re sure?” He asked her.

“Trust me. She’s never getting over Spiderman. In fact-“

“Hey guys.” You said as you approached the group, accidentally cutting off MJ. She was about to tell Peter that you were very much still in love with him, but now he’d never know.

“Hey girl.” Kate smiled and wrapped an arm around you. You smiled at her and then looked at Peter, who looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Hi Peter.” You smiled at him, making him look at you in surprise.

“Me hi?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yeah. Hey you.” You nudged him playfully, making him blush.

“Hi. You look really nice today.” He told you, reminding you both of old times.

“Thanks.” You smiled sadly and fixed your shirt.

“You do look nice.” Kate noticed. “All dolled up for your man?”

“Yeah, like I’d dress for a man.” You snorted. “In fact, lately I’ve been dressing for revenge.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” MJ chuckled. You laughed as well and then noticed the pained look on Peters face.

“He’s not actually my man.” You told him, though you weren’t really sure why you said it.

“I know. They were just filling me in on your situationship.” He said with a tight smile. Your smile dropped and you gave your friends a look.

“Guys. You told Peter?” You whispered in annoyance.

“Why would Peter care? Just because he had that crush on you two months ago?” Kate asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and quickly looked away from each other.

“Yeah. I don’t mind hearing about it. We’re friends now and friends talk about these things.” Peter shrugged but you both knew he was lying. The bell then rang and Kate and Gwen groaned.

“I gotta go.” Kate said and squeezed your arm before walking away.

“Same. See you later.” Gwen waved and headed towards her next class. MJ gave you a knowing look before leaving as well. She didn’t have a class now, but she wanted you to talk to Peter alone. Once it was just the two of you, you stepped in front of Peter so you could face each other.

“Look, I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“It’s okay. We broke up. You can date whoever you want.” He said with a tight smile.

“I’m not really dating him. I’m not even sure I like him. He takes five hours to text back and we’ve only hung out twice. I kinda played it up to my friends so they don’t think I’m pathetic for still being totally in love with….” You trailed off when you realized how much information you were spilling. Peters eyebrows went up and all the hope in the world filled his eyes.

“Sorry. This whole conversation was way too much exposition.” You laughed awkwardly.

“A little bit, yeah.” He laughed as well and desperately hoped you’d finish that sentence.

“All I wanted to say is, I’m not moving on. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“Why?” Peter wondered. “Why do you want me to know that?”

“Because I don’t want you to move on, okay?” You admitted without looking at him.

“You don’t?” Peter asked as a smile broke through on his lips. You were about to say more when the second bell rang, meaning you were already late.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later?” You asked genuinely. Peter nodded and felt his heart piece itself back together. He went to his next class with a huge smile on his face and for the first time in months, allowed himself to be hopeful about getting back together.

A few days later, you were on your third date with Sebastian. He invited you to watch his lacrosse game and met up with him afterwards. As he approached you, his entire team followed him and clapped him on the shoulders while hyping him up. He pulled you into a hug that you didn’t want because he was sweaty and people were watching.

“Oh, hi.” You laughed awkwardly and stepped out of the hug.

“So you liked watching me play?” He asked you like he already knew the answer was yes.

“Yeah! Yeah, it was so….fun.” You kept your smile as you struggled to think of an acceptable adjective. You didn’t actually enjoy watching a bunch of sweaty guys jump on top of each other, but you wanted to be polite.

“Cool, cool. So while my boys are all with me, I wanted to ask you something.” Sebastian said while running his fingers through his hair. His hair wasn’t actually in his eyes, but he liked to do that when he wanted it look cool. His teammates started barking and clapping him on the back again, which made you step back uncomfortably.

“What did you want to ask me?”

“I want to make this official.” He said and rubbed his hands together. His teammates started barking again and shouting some crude remarks while you smiled nervously.

“Make what official?”

“Us, dummy. You and me. Aha.” He laughed and gestured between the two of you. Every single one of his teammates was staring at you and expecting you to say yes. You gulped and forced a laugh to ease the tension.

“Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I do. Lucky you.” He said with a suave smile. You folded your lips in and looked to the side to see if anyone was hearing this.

“But, uh, don’t you think it’s a little soon?” You laughed nervously.

“No. I think it’s the exact right time. Right, boys?” Sebastian turned to ask his team and they all hyped him up.

“But you barely even know me.” You pointed out. “We’ve only been on two dates. And one of them was a movie so we didn’t really talk.”

“I know you. And that’s why I want to give you this.” He said and stepped forward. He cupped your face and pulled you into the most lifeless, stiff kiss of your life. You kept your eyes open and didn’t move a muscle until he pulled away.

“It was horrible, MJ. Horrible. It felt like kissing a concrete wall. Only colder and a lot less fun. No passion whatsoever. I gotta get out of this.” You told MJ once you were back in your room that night. You were both sitting on your bed and you were hugging a pillow for comfort after being traumatized by the worst kiss of your life.

“Is he at least nice?” MJ asked you.

“I don’t know. I guess so. He doesn’t excite me though. Not the way…” You trailed off and looked to the side.

“Peter did?” She finished your sentence.

“It’s just, I would get all these butterflies when Peter texted me. I was checking my phone all day to see if he sent anything. I’d hear love songs on the radio and think of him and I. He made me laugh, he asked me questions, and took his time getting to know me. But with Sebastian, I feel like we’re just in an endless cycle of “hey, what’s up?” , “not much, you?”, “Yeah not much”. And then five hours later, we’re having that same conversation all over again. I don’t know if he has siblings. I don’t know what he likes to do for fun. I his favorite songs. I couldn’t even tell you what color his eyes are even though I’ve see him three days a week in class. Because you know what? I don’t care. He’s not Peter.”

“And you want Peter.” MJ said as more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” You admitted. “Ugh. Am I totally lame and pathetic for wanting someone who lied to me?”

“No. You are totally lame for those socks though.” MJ said and looked down at the Spiderman socks you had on.

“I bought them from a guy on the street.” You mumbled as you moved to sit on your feet.

“I could tell.” MJ mumbled back.

“It’s been two months. I’m done torturing Peter.” You decided. “I’m gonna end things with Sebastian and tell Peter I still love him.”

“Tonight? Please say yes. My wifi is buffering and I’m so bored.” MJ whined and shook your arm.

“Tomorrow.” You told him. “I don’t want to ruin Sebastians night.”

“Fine.” MJ huffed. “But you better tell him tomorrow. He almost died when Gwen and Kate told him about Sebastian. I thought he was gonna throw up.”

“I’ll tell him, okay?” You promised her.

“Good.” She nodded in satisfaction. “Get your boyfriend back.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I will.”

The next day, you didn’t have any classes with Peter so you had to wait until lunch to see him. You unblocked his number and texted him that you had to talk to him about something but that it had to be in person. Peter was ecstatic to see that text and couldn’t wait until lunchtime when he got to see you. You were already sitting at the lunch table when he got there, making his heart pound. He quickly fixed his hair and shirt before approaching the table.

“Hey, Y/n.” He smiled at you as he sat across from you.

“Hey, Peter. Do you think we could-“

“Hey, little lady.” Sebastian cut you off as he slung his arm around you. Your smile fell almost as quickly as Peters did with Sebastian’s unexpected presence.

“Sebastian. What are you doing here?” You laughed nervously and took his arm off of you. Peter gulped and balled his hand into a fist as he tried to stay calm at the sight of some other guy with his arm around you.

“What? I can’t sit with my girlfriend and her friends at lunch?” Sebastian asked you as he put his arm back around you. Everyone froze and exchanged a look before looking at you and Sebastian.

“His what?” Kate asked and raised an eyebrow.

“His what?” Peter asked as his face crumbled.

“Uhhhh…” You forced another laugh and took his arm off of you. You had never actually agreed to being Sebastian’s girlfriend after the kiss incident. You had just excused yourself and ran back to your dorm as fast as you could.

“Y/n didn’t tell you? We’re official. I’m not like other guys. Labels don’t scare me. I’m crazy about this woman and I don’t care who knows it.” Sebastian said with a smug smile. You turned your face and gagged a little at every single word choice he made while Kate and Gwen tried not to laugh.

“Do you even know her last name?” MJ asked him. You felt grateful she had come to the rescue because you yourself had no idea what to say.

“Doesn’t matter. Because one day, it’ll be the same as mine.” Sebastian smirked before leaning in to kiss you. You quickly turned your face so the kiss landed on your cheek instead. You made eye contact with Peter when you turned your face and he looked like he was near tears.

“Wow.” MJ mouthed and looked at the girls to signal that they needed to help you.

“Sebastian, I’ve never seen where the lacrosse players practice. Would you mind showing me?” Kate asked when she picked up on MJs hint.

“You know what? Neither have I. I would love to see it.” Gwen agreed and stood up.

“Oh, sure. I could take you.” Sebastian agreed. “Let’s go, Y/n.”

“Actually, I’m gonna stay here with Peter.” You told him.

“No, you should go with him.” Peter said and stood up as well.

“I don’t want to go with him. I wanted to talk to you.” You kept your eyes solely on Peter as you got up from the table.

“It’s okay. You should go with your boyfriend.” Peter said as his eyes brimmed with tears. You stared him in the eyes for a long time before he wiped his face and ran out of the lunchroom. You let out a sigh as you watched him disappear but decided that you were done playing games. You turned to Sebastian to tell him the truth.

“Sebastian, I didn’t like how you asked me to be your girlfriend in front of all your teammates. It made me feel like I had no choice but to say yes. And honestly, I didn’t want to say yes. I don’t know you well enough. And right now, I don’t see a future between us. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You said simply before running out of the lunchroom after Peter.

“I don’t really give a fuck where the lacrosse team practices.” MJ admitted as she sat back down at the table. The other girls were silent for a minute before nodding in agreement and sitting down as well.

“Peter, wait.” You called after him as you chased him down the hallway. Peter kept walking but you eventually caught up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. He was crying and looking down while wiping his runny nose on his sleeve.

“Peter, please talk to me. I need to explain.” You said as you pulled your sleeve over your hand to wipe his tears.

“You said you weren’t moving on. You said you didn’t want me to move on. When you asked me to talk today, I thought…” Peter trailed off when he felt too embarrassed to admit he thought you wanted to get back together.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you were ready to forgive me. And not just as pretend for our friends. You’ve been so nice to me lately and I felt like we were getting back to the way we used to be. But I’m such an idiot. I actually thought there was gonna be another chance for us.” He laughed sadly at Hoe dumb he felt for thinking that.

“Peter-“

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I blew it with you and I know that. I don’t know why I was stupid enough to let myself think you wanted to get back together. You obviously don’t and moved on and I don’t have any right to be upset about that since it’s my fault for fucking things up between us. I should’ve just told you who I was right away. We could’ve been happy and in love if I had. I’m sorry I ruined everything between us. I’m sorry I lied to you. And I’m sorry for being a baby about it now. I know I shouldn’t be upset. I just can’t believe you have a boyfriend and it isn’t me.” Peter said and broke into tears again. He tried to walk away but you pulled him into a hug and let him cry for minute.

“Peter?” You said and pulled away a little.

“What?” He sniffled.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I never did. He asked me to be his girlfriend last night and I never gave him an answer. But it doesn’t matter now because I just ended things with him. I never moved on. And I was never gonna date that guy. I had no idea he was gonna sit with us at lunch and do that whole thing. I really wanted to talk to you, not rub some guy in your face. I never meant for that to happen. I would never purposefully try to make you upset. Please, believe me.”

“I believe you.” Peter nodded as he stared into your eyes. You stared back into his and smiled a little at how easily he accepted that you were telling the truth. He knew you, more than anyone else could say.

“Can we talk? About everything?” You laughed at how fucked up it all was now.

“I would like that.” Peter smiled softly.

“Maybe tonight? We could go for a walk like old times.” You offered as you took a pack of tissues out of your bag. Peters smile grew as he took the tissues.

“That would mean a lot to me. I can pick you up outside your dorm at 6.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” You squeezed his arm and walked away.

That night, Peter was outside your dorm but 5:45. He had showered, dosed himself in aftershave, and put on his least wrinkled shirt. He checked the time every minute or so in anticipation of your arrival. His nervous hands fiddled with his shirt, his hair, his watch, and anything else he could play with as he waited for you. 6:02 came and there was no sight of you. Peter grew hopeful every time someone came out of your dorm but it was never you.

6:11 came and went and you still hadn’t shown up. Peter sent you a few texts to make sure everything was all right but hadn’t gotten a response.

By 6:34, he assumed you had forgotten about your agreement to meet up but also wondered if he had gotten the day wrong. Maybe you hadn’t actually said tonight and said “tomorrow” instead.

At 7:06, Peter called it a night. He stood up from the stair he was sitting on and walked back to his apartment in tears. He didn’t care about the people staring at him because he was too heartbroken over you standing him up. He cursed himself for not realizing it was too good to be true. He wished he never let himself believe that he could get a second chance with you and just accepted that things were over for good. If he had, he would’ve saved himself grieving this relationship a second time.

Peter plopped his bag down at the library table the next day and immediately put his head down. He was anxious to see you and hear what you had to say about why you stood him up. Ned came to the table first, followed by Kate, MJ and Gwen.

“Hey, dude. How did things go with Y/n last night?” Ned asked and excitedly shook Peters arm. Peter sat up a little and rested his chin on his hand.

“I don’t know. She never showed up.” He said quietly. MJ immediately perked up when she heard this and looked at Peter.

“Oh, I’m sorry man.” Ned frowned. “That really sucks. I thought things were starting to change between you.”

“So did I. But I guess not.” Peter sighed and put his head back down.

“She never showed up?” MJ asked and lifted Peters head up by grabbing his hair.

“Ow.” He said and pulled away. “No, she didn’t. Did she tell you why she changed her mind?”

“She didn’t change her mind. She went downstairs to wait for you at like 5:30 because she was so exited. It was all she talked about all day. She even put on the perfume she was wearing the day you guys “met”. What do you mean she never showed up?” MJ whispered to him. Peters eyes went wide and he looked at Ned to see if he was hearing this too.

“I waited outside the dorm for an hour. She was never there.” Peter told her.

“Well what time did you arrive?” MJ asked.

“5:45. We agreed to meet at 6.” Peter told her. MJ’s face twisted in panic, making Peters do the same.

“MJ, what are you not saying?” Ned asked. Peter got a sick feeling in his stomach as he turned to MJ for answers.

“Y/n never come home last night. I assumed it was because she was fornicating with you.” MJ said, making Peters stomach drop.

“Gross. Fornicating?” Ned grimaced.

“She never came home?” Peter asked slowly. The energy at the table was filled with collective dread as everyone tried to think of the last time they spoke to you.

“If she wasn’t with you and she wasn’t with me, where the hell is she?” MJ asked angrily. Peter shrugged helplessly as Ned turned to Kate and Gwen.

“Is everything okay, guys?” Kate asked when she noticed the three of them looking like they had just seen a ghost.

“Have you guys seen Y/n today?” Ned asked them.

“No. She wasn’t in our first class together. I was just gonna ask you if she was sick?” Kate asked MJ.

“She’s not sick. She left our room last night and was supposed to meet Peter outside but he says she never showed up.“

“And she never came home?” Kate asked while Gwen covered her mouth in fear. MJ shook her head, making everyone fall silent. No one knew what to do next until Gwen spoke.

“Call her. Everyone call and text her.” Gwen said to break the silence. Everyone whipped their phones out to text and call you but no one was able to reach you.

“No answer.” Gwen sighed after the fifth missed call.

“Me either.” Kate shook her head. “My texts aren’t being delivered.”

Everyone was quiet as the gravity of the situation became more apparent. Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, something that only happened to him when danger was near.

“Guys.” Peter began. “I think something really bad happened to her. And I think it’s because of me.”

🖤🕸️🖤

Tag list 🏷️

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@freakofmusic25 @loveleesthings @katerinaval

@tom-hollands-wifey @helen-on-earth @amberpanda99 @freyaxx

@xorderedkaosx @riordanness @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes

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highqueenofelfhame · 1 year ago

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a/n: happy mermay!! this wasn't supposed to be multiple parts but it started getting a little long. it won't be a full length fic but it will have a few parts for it just to keep it from being one insanely long one shot. i hope you enjoy. pls be kind, i haven't written fantasy in a long time or fantasy like this ever. ok bye <3 PS: IF YOUR TAG IS BOLD IT WOULDN'T LET ME TAG YOU!

masterlist // rowaelin // 5.3k words

Of everything that Rowan Whitethorn had ever been called, stupid was never one of them.

Always at the top of his class, he graduated valedictorian in both high school and college. He worked tirelessly to graduate with a double major in oceanography and marine biology. A decade later, he had a doctorate in the former and worked for the most well respected ocean research institute in the world. Rowan himself was said to be one to watch in their community with his passion and tireless research.

Right now, however, the only word blasting through his brain was stupid stupid stupid while alarms in his submarine wailed for about fifteen different reasons. Frantic fingers flew across the keyboard to access troubleshooting. Everything was going off. His oxygen inside the craft was plummeting, air pressure was rising, something in the back was hissing, communication with the surface was down, and he had no fucking idea why.

Five minutes ago he approached the ruins far beneath the waves and was studying animal activity in the middle of the night. It was by the far the dumbest thing he had ever done, going down at night without telling anyone. The submarine was built for two bodies and there was always a team on land surveying everything about the machine in case something went wrong. He knew better, yet something had been calling to him until he found himself pulling on his clothes and boarding alone. Rowan hadn’t even woken anyone up to ask for assistance. It was a trip he had made so many times over the last few months and he didn’t see the harm in going.

And now the multi-million dollar submarine had managed to hit something incredibly hard while not moving. Nothing had shown up in the radar. One minute he was scribbling notes on lined paper and the next he was launched out of his seat and into the wall. His body was screaming as he pulled himself into the seat to figure out what the hell happened, but he couldn’t see anything. Rowan wondered what kind of chaos was happening above the water. Everyone would be awake by now and realize that both he and the submarine were gone.

Still panicked, he kept trying and failing to get the back-up oxygen running. He was down to three percent which should have been fucking impossible for how long he had been below.

At least he was going to die in the ocean. He had loved it so thoroughly since he was a boy, always feeling drawn to the water. At least there was this.

“Burning hell,” he heard, but it wasn’t his voice. Rowan quickly surveyed the submarine and came to the conclusion that he was alone. But where did that voice come from? The accent was unlike anything he had ever heard but it was so lovely. All rolling letters and curved syllables, it nearly entranced him. Whoever she was, her voice was the most gorgeous song he had ever heard and there was a tug—

Metal groaned and cracked, popped and exploded to nothing and suddenly he was launched through the water. By the grace of the gods, he managed to get one gulp of air into his lungs before being swept out into the iciest cold he had ever felt. It was pointless. He was going to die. How he hadn’t burst into a billion pieces at exposure to such high water pressure was absolutely beyond him. That one quick breath wouldn’t save him.

Maybe he was already dead.

With his body going into shock and the submarine sinking in pieces and chunks to the ocean floor, there was no way he wasn’t one hundred percent a dead man. It didn’t make sense that he hadn’t blown to bits, that he had seemingly stopped flipping and hurtling through the water. Everything around him suddenly felt warm like the ocean was wrapping him in a loving embrace.

Definitely dead, then.

If he was still alive against all odds, he didn’t have much time left. Despite being an excellent swimmer with lungs that could sustain him under water for several minutes, he didn’t have the time to get a proper breath. Still, he opened his eyes, rapidly blinking as the salt burned, invisible tears escaping into nothing. He shouldn’t be able to see anything this deep without the lights, and yet…

Something was glowing. It was a radiant golden light floating closer and closer to where he waded. Which also shouldn’t be possible, but he supposed all bets were off when you were dead. Perhaps this was all a dream and he would wake up soon, haunted by that lovely, lilting voice he didn’t want to forget.

“I can’t do this for very long,” Gods, that voice. His panic seemed to cease at the sound of it. A sense of calm washed over him and the sudden sensation of air whooshing up his nose had him exhaling the breath he was holding. Rowan blinked again, that blurry orb of bright light turning into a woman.

Mala burn him alive, he had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life. Her hair seemed to defy the laws of oceanic gravity, cascading over her shoulders and well below her breasts. With pale skin and a smattering of freckles across her nose, she swam until they were close enough to touch.

Despite his blurry vision, he could tell her eyes were the color of the purest seas. So vibrantly turquoise there was no way she was human. Light seemed to radiate from within her turning the golden ring in her eyes into molten flame as she appraised him. Her skin cast a dim light around them, those brilliant eyes scanning the area.

Something deep within him tugged, like a taut piece of string pulling against his ribs, his heart. This is what he had been looking for. This angel was the reason he was so drawn to the ocean and all that dwelled within.

“I can’t keep giving you oxygen for long,” she told him, concern furrowing her brow. Rowan opened his mouth to ask if she was an angel, to tell her how beautiful she was and that it felt like he’d been pulled toward her his entire life, but water rushed in and forced all of his words back down his throat. “Don’t try to speak. I don’t have long.”

Dumbly, he nodded his head. He would do anything she asked of him.

“You have two options and you must decide quickly.” Her pretty words were rushed like she was the one panicking. “You can die and I can return your body to the surface, or I can save you. But if I save you, you’ll be like me. And you will dwell here forever.”

He was already dead. There was no other explanation. But he cocked his head slightly in a silent question. What did she mean like her?

Thus far in their interaction he hadn’t been able to pull his eyes from her perfect face. His eyes had dipped down to her neck, but no further than that. Something in his mind told him to look, to see, so he took one of their dwindling moments to fully take her in. If he wasn’t dead, he probably would have been surprised. Perhaps he would have yelped and tried to get away, or maybe his brain would have made something up to make him believe what he was seeing.

Her hair seemed to move from her neck, coiling around to the other side to display what could only be gills just behind her delicately pointed ear. Some sort of shining fabric was wrapped around her breasts. Like her eyes, it was a stunning shade of turquoise that he was convinced had no name and seemed to be fused to her somehow, like scales. Her body was finely sculpted by the gods, all the way down to her navel. There, her skin reflected bits of gold, and lower she—

Where her legs should be was a vibrant, shimmering gold tail. It looked like golden starlight had been melted and wrapped tightly around her body. The fins of her tail swayed idly in the water like molten ore. Similar to some jellyfish, the edges of the main fin had a slightly ruffled quality to them yet looked like the finest gossamer. He couldn’t be sure with his blurry eyes, but it seemed to have a glimmering effect. At her hips she had fins on each side that looked much like the one where her feet might have been if she was human. She was a mermaid. And she was fucking exquisite.

“I can save you, or take your body home. What do you wish?”

The answer seemed obvious. Die and let his friends and colleagues find his body, or live forever in heaven with an angel. One that it felt like he’d been looking for his whole life. Maybe that was the death talking.

Still, he nodded, gesturing toward her. He wanted to ask how she was going to save him, but the words didn’t leave his mouth. Instead, she smiled, pink lips spreading to reveal surprisingly normal teeth.

“A kiss,” she whispered, her voice a sultry purr as she leaned closer. “Are you sure?”

Rowan nodded as the airflow through his nose grew weaker. How could he say anything but yes to her? To the creature with the voice of a song his heart had been singing forever. As he took his last inhale of the air she gifted him, his nod grew more eager.

“This is going to hurt, and I am so sorry.” Before he could process her words, cool lips were pressed against his.

Something pulled at his insides, but he couldn’t name the feeling. His lips parted when her tongue brushed his lips and she exhaled what could only be liquid flame into his core. Rowan began to thrash about, lightning striking every nerve ending in his body. Aches rumbled deep in his bones and barreled through every pore, that white-hot pain lancing across his skin, his lips, his eyes. Even his hair seemed to hurt as she burned him from the inside out. The pain was so fierce he couldn’t muster the strength to even attempt to restrain her, to shove her away and make her stop.

Through the pain his body bowed, back in a tight arch that felt like his spine would splinter into thousands of pieces. Color exploded behind his eyes as whatever fire she breathed into his lungs took root. Paralyzation took over and he couldn’t move, the only solace to the heat being the frigid water surrounding them.

Rowan might have been screaming to no one and nothing, and she might have been devouring his very soul. Even when the pain became so blinding that consciousness was no longer an option, her poisoned mouth stayed glued to his.

He had always heard that beautiful things were deadly. It couldn’t be more true about the creature stealing his soul. All he knew was pure agony when the freezing darkness of the ocean swept in, claiming another life to her mysterious depths.

~*~

When Aelin awoke she was nestled on a bed of kelp and seagrass. The sickly-white bioluminescence told her enough about where she was without having to really look around: the infirmary. It wasn’t the first time she had woken up here with twinges of pain throughout her body and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was, however, the first time she couldn’t place why she was there.

In true Aedion fashion, he was lounging on a rock with a solemn glare aimed at her. Aelin winced as she sat up and adjusted her weight. One of her fins had been caught beneath her for what felt like entirely took long. She frowned at the wrinkle, at the thing that seemed different about herself that she couldn’t place before looking at her cousin.

“What the hell happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not particularly, no. Some grand adventure of mine turned a little sour, I suppose.” They often did much to her family’s eternal dismay. It wasn’t that she went looking for trouble, she just had a penchant for finding it.

“The submarine? The explosion? The man? Your kiss? Any of that ringing any bells, sweetheart?” Bright memories clanged through her at his words and she started, twisting and turning to find the man from the vessel.

Her heart both soared and sank at the sight of him several beds over. Considering that he was already finished with his transformation and sleeping soundly, it meant that she, too, had been unconscious for at least two days. Maybe three.

What a glorious transformation it was, though. Her aching body pushed her through the water to his side, her fingers weaving into the seagrass as she came to a stop. Gills fluttered gently as he breathed, his long silver hair fanned out around his head like a halo. The clothes he had been wearing when she found him were gone. A bronze sculpted chest expanded with every breath and occasionally his eyes and fingers twitched. The tattoo he had as a human remained, but where the ink had once been a flat black, it now flashed with blues and greens beneath the lights. It had expanded to crawl up his neck and feathered along his jaw, the edges of it wrapped around his ears like tiny tentacles. Fascinating. The gauntlet of scales that started at his wrist and crawled up his forearms were of the same coloring as his tale, all vibrant shades of silver, gold, green and bright blue.

Then there was his tail. While hers was all golden with turquoise throughout, his was primarily her favorite shade of green. About halfway down it faded to a darker emerald with sparkling silver and gold shooting throughout. Aelin’s scales were flatter, more silken to the touch. The ones of his fin were thicker and more defined, similar to how Aedion’s were. He had very defined boning through his bottoms fins, the webbing between iridescent hues of pine, starlight, and the purest ocean water. In short, he was beautiful, and she was positive she could write an essay about him if she tried.

“Has he woken up at all?”

“Not yet, but his vitals are steady and healthy. He should wake up soon, though. Probably good that you woke up first.” Aelin nodded in agreement, curling her hands into fists to keep herself from touching him. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened to make you give him your kiss?”

“I know what it looks like, and it’s not that,” she blurted, perching on the edge of the man’s bed. It looked like she lured him out of the submarine to seal his fate below the waves. While she had spent the last several months enthralled by him and the work he did, she didn’t kiss him lightly. It wasn’t a simple decision to make, and it was one that few mer ever risked.

Aedion arched an eyebrow, his fins moving in a way that told her she was impatient. Aelin sighed heavily, running her fingers through permanently silky strands.

“He got too close to the city. The defenses went off and when I tried to shove them out of the way, it was too late. It rocked the back half to the vessel and sent all the mechanics into a tizzy. He was going to die.”

“He’s doing work that could kill us all,” Aedion reminded her. It was a harsh truth she wanted to ignore. Something about this man was different from all the others that had ever studied their kingdom. Humans saw it as a cluster of ruins. In reality it was one of the seven thriving kingdoms that dwelled at the bottom of the ocean. A kingdom that she was the princess of.

While many oceanographers tried, and failed, to get too close to document the ruins, this man had always made his team stay far enough back that no damage would be caused. Even on the night that the world went to hell, he was a respectable distance away until a current pushed him a little too close. Aelin had been watching all these months, though. The man was incredibly intelligent and cared greatly about the ocean and her creatures. She spent hours watching him while he scanned what he believed he saw, scribbling notes in a little book. Most often he had a golden or onyx-haired companion with him. It was always this one that was most cautious and respectful about the marine life, though.

The lost Kingdom of Terrasen was only a myth because it had never existed on land to begin with. Legend says a thousand different things about how it wound up on the bottom of the ocean, leading generations of scientists to dive deep below to try and find the forgotten city. Most of the time, the defenses of the kingdom would wipe memories and send people far away. Some of them forgot what they were doing in the water to begin with, some forgot who they were entirely. Their wards were temperamental and it all depended on the heart of the person hunting them.

For the first time ever, when this man was on board the submarine, they were allowed to see the ruins of what might have been. It confused everyone, her father included. Even the king didn’t have control over what the wards permitted people to see or what knowledge they might walk away with. This man and his team had been chosen for the smallest amount of exposure. The only catch, it seemed, was that they couldn’t nail down exact coordinates and there were days between visits because they got lost.

The night he appeared entirely alone, however, it was like he knew exactly where to go. Like the magic of the lands were whispering to him, guiding him almost to their doorstep. It was the first time he had ever gotten much too close and it almost cost him his life. That wasn’t entirely his fault, there truly had been a current that moved the ship just enough that it triggered major defense systems. If Aelin hadn’t tried to knock the blast out of the way, he would have been dead before she could intervene.

She looked back down at his handsome, sleeping face and held in a sigh before looking back at Aedion. “You know that the magic sings to him.”

“Is it the magic, or has it been you?”

Aelin scowled. Sirens were relatives of the mer, and liked to lure men to tragic deaths. Somewhere in their shared Ashryver bloodline were siren powers. They never really used them. Speaking to this man to save his life was the first time she had ever put the full force of it in her voice, and it had only been to calm him down.

“You know it wasn’t me,” she said, twisting to look back down at him.

“You gave him your kiss.”

“I gave him the option of death or life, and he chose life. So of course I gave it to him.” A mer’s kiss was as much of a legend as the merfolk themselves. Most of the stories were watered down versions of the truth. None of them were exactly correct, yet they weren’t wholly wrong.

Many of them claimed you would be given magic of your own or healing powers. Most implied it could be done over and over, and that to take a kiss from a mer was to sell your soul. The last part was kind of true. To take a kiss was to become a mer, but it was a little more complicated than that.

Each mer only had one true kiss to give. Typically it was given to humans, though some had been known to give it to other creatures of the deep. It was a heavy decision on the mer because of the repercussions. That other life would be immortally bound to theirs, half of any magic the possessed transferring to the other being in the process. The elders said it was because the magic was the only way most could survive the transformation, and after witnessing it with her own eyes, she understood why.

Aelin had always known that it would be painful on both parts. For the man she saved, it seemed to ring true. She had never seen that kind of blind terror on anyone’s face, had never been able to feel such raw, visceral pain coming from another being as clearly as if it were her own. The few mer that she knew were Made had once said it was like having every part of you ripped out and made new, but it depended on what magic the other possessed. Among a few smaller healing gifts, Aelin had liquid flame that nobody could really explain. It had to have been agony.

For her, she felt parts of herself she didn’t know existed splintering apart. The tangible feeling of her magic being torn from her body was painful enough, and she wouldn’t have been able to pull away from him if she tried. Her bones still ached like she’d been slammed into the sandy floor over and over. Maybe she had. At some point she lost consciousness and then woke up in the infirmary with her glaring cousin at her side.

And then there was that other thing she had felt. Like a harp string between their bodies shining golden in the dark, plucking a song she swore she had heard her entire existence. Most merfolk didn’t risk giving their kiss away. The costs were simply too high for them unless they found their true mate. Looking down at the handsome face beside her, feeling that vibrant bond between them, she couldn’t help but wonder if the wards had been so forgiving of the man because his heart sang their princess’s song.

“Aedion, I think…” Words were tangled in knots that she couldn’t speak.

“I know. We all knew. Look at his tail and yours.” Aelin swished her lower fin up, gasping at the brilliant shades of green that shimmered in the bioluminescence of the infirmary. Where her tail used to be just gold and blue like her eyes, green was now infused effortlessly. Near her bottom tail, the gold speckled then blended into turquoise. Now green made the fade all the more seamless and complete. The delicate webbing that layered upon itself in a ruffled-like display had vibrant bands of green melted effortlessly with her natural coloring. As fuzzy as her mind had been when she woke, it was insane to think she had missed the green and silver scales speckled through what had once been solid gold. Even the fins at her hips and her forearms matched the lower one.

When she looked back down at his tail she felt silly for not seeing it before. Those blue hues were exactly the color of her eyes, of her scales and webbing. Even the gold was identical to hers and that was rare. Not even Aedion’s or her parent’s shades of gold were a perfect match.

The sleeping man was her mate. It was wholly undeniable.

Hours passed, her mother and father coming to check on her not long after her revelation. Neither were angry with her, though she wouldn’t have blamed them if they were. Both were just relieved that she was okay and still breathing, and promised they would figure out the next steps together.

“Let us know when your prince wakes,” her mother said, a knowing look twinkling in her eyes. Prince. Because he was now a prince of the most powerful kingdom in the ocean. Gods above.

Aelin stayed perched on his bedside, tail swishing anxiously while she waited for him to rouse from sleep. She had just finished a seaweed snack when she heard a deep inhale beside her. When she looked over, she was gazing into bewildered but bright green eyes.

“Hello,” she said, pushing off the bed to give him his space. Hints of fear were speckled in his eyes, the smell of his heart rate spiking beneath his skin heady in its own way. Her fins swayed idly to keep her in place, the ribbon-like tendrils at her hips reaching for him. It was almost like her magic and her body recognized him as belonging to her.

The man was quiet, bleary eyes blinking up at her. One of his hands waved in front of his face as though realizing he was underwater, breathing, and alive. Wonder and amazement crossed over his features before he looked back at her.

“Am I dead?” His voice was prettier without machinery warping his words. Aelin bit down on her lip and glanced away, trying to bite back a smile.

“No. You are quite alive, but not the same as you were. Are you in pain?” Those green eyes didn’t stray from her face as if he couldn’t look away.

“I’m sore.” Aelin nodded, parting her lips to respond when he asked, “Where am I?”

“In one of the infirmary towers of the palace.”

“Underwater?” Bewildered, his eyes flew around the room. He probably expected ruins, and was instead greeted by pristine walls made of seashells and rows of beds. Beyond the doorway behind them was an extensive supply of medicinal plants and herbs.

“We were never lost, just never wanted to be found. You are the first human to ever see it as ruins. I’m afraid that your research won’t reflect that. The magic only seemed to like you and I can’t imagine your colleagues will remember what they saw down here.” Aelin’s smile was sad and her heart ached for what he lost. From his human life to the career and research that he seemed to love so much.

“I think I died. And that you might be an angel of death,” he said slowly, the memories seeping from his mind down that new bond they shared. Aelin could feel his fear of her, even as she shook her head.

“I know it felt like I was trying to kill you, but believe me when I say it was the only way to save you. My powers.. I have great strengths, but I also have weaknesses. My healing magic is few and far between and I only have so much to give. I wouldn’t have been able to sustain your oxygen levels for the ascent despite how fast I can swim. You would have been dead before we broke the surface.” She hated the dread on his face. Hated how much he wanted to believe none of this was true. Still, he hadn’t looked away from her to see what he had become. Aelin wondered if he could feel it, if he knew, or if he still felt the phantom of his human limbs.

“Are you an angel?” His eyes dipped to her throat then back to her face. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed and she wondered if it was the gills that got that reaction from him.

“I think you know what I am,” she said, swishing her tail hard enough that he had to view it in all its glory, not just out of his periphery. “Just like I think you know what you now are.”

His eyes were roving over every scale, every shimmering, shiny inch of her body. She held still while he drank every piece of her in, his mouth parted in surprise. One hard swallow later and he was gaping down at his lower half like he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

Some mer chose to take this part away after the kiss. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought about it too much, but was now wishing that she had. So many emotions were flying across his face entirely unfiltered, so quickly she couldn’t make sense of them all.

“What’s your name?” Her hands toyed with the ends of her hair just to have something to do.

“I— Rowan. Rowan Whitethorn.” His eyes darted to her body and back to his.

“Rowan,” she whispered, two syllables turning over sweetly in her mouth. “My name is Aelin. I’m the princess of what you call the Lost Kingdom of Terrasen.”

“Bullshit,” he blurted, shooting upright and looking around the room. His hands were braced on the bed, the kelp and seagrass trapped beneath his fingers.

“When you’re feeling better I’ll show you everything. Anything you want to see or do, it’s yours. But I would rather wait until the residual pain has faded because swimming long distances—”

“What did you do to me?”

“I saved your life the only way that I could. I told you it would make you like me.” She hated that her tears, thicker than water and shining in her eyes like oyster shells, were burning her eyes. Soon they would be falling down her cheeks like lost pearls.

“I thought I was dead,” he argued, the beautiful lines of his face hard and unforgiving.

“You would have been if I didn’t shield your human body from the pressure, the cold, and your submarine exploding into pieces,” she fought back, hands in fists and voice on edge. Aelin was known for having quite the temper when the right buttons were pushed.

“Maybe you should have let me die. Everything I loved is above the surface.” It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. It felt like the spindly thorns of a lionfish pricking venom into her skin. Her jaw clenched, sharper teeth sliding out from her gums. The sharp tang of blood filled her mouth as she bit the tip of her tongue. They were a defense mechanism, sometimes used for certain meals, but in moments like this she had little control over their appearance. Her body and magic thought she was in danger so they were giving her the tools to protect herself.

“I gave you the choice. It was your choice. I—” Aelin turned and fixed her eyes on one of the bioluminescent lanterns on the wall. She didn’t need him seeing those shark-like teeth and becoming more fearful than he already was. “Do you want me to take it away?”

“What?”

“The memory, the pain, all of it. I can take it away. But I want that to be your choice. You can hate me if you wish, or I can take it away and you won’t remember your life before.”

Technically he could do it himself, too, but informing him that he now had different kinds of magic flowing through his veins right now didn’t seem like the best idea. Rowan was quiet, fingers tracing over his brand new scales where his knees used to be. Aelin keenly watched him out of the corner of her eye until those teeth sunk back into her gums and she felt his eyes turn back on her.

“No,” he finally said. “No, I don’t want to forget.”

“I know there is going to be a lot of adjustment for you. I want to make it as easy as possible. Your rooms will be next to mine and I’m at your disposal. Should you need me, just call for me and I’ll come. For now, I’m going to find something to eat for the both of us. If you’ll excuse me.” Before he could even open his mouth to object, she used a blast of her power to propel her through the open archway that led into the hall.

While she was going to find him food, those tears were getting a little too close to falling from the tension. It had been a long few days, an even longer few hours of being awake. Not only was she feeling all of her own emotions, but his were thrown into the mix, too. A moment to breathe in the salty water would be enough to ground her.

Her pace only slowed when she was far enough away that it felt safe to sink onto the sandy floor and cry until the frustration began to drift away on a slow current.

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#a kiss of salt and flame #akosaf #mermay #mermaid au #rowaelin #rowaelin mermay #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fluff #mermaids #mermates #heh #see what i did there

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